The Daughter of Twilight
by Tinuviel Evenstar
Summary: A PhantomLoTRVan Helsing crossover. EOW, VHOC, RC, OCOC. Luthien Tinuviel & Beren, Arwen Undomiel & Aragorn Elessar shared an unbreakable love. Can their descendent love a Phantom?
1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:** Ok, this is my first attempt at actually finishing a fanfiction. Let's hope it works. This might get a little AU at times for all three fandoms, so I'm warning everyone now. 

**Disclaimer: As if I own Phantom, LoTR, or Van Helsing. What a good joke! **

_Prolouge _

The Lady speaks...

My life has always been full of polarities. I am the daughter of the Lady of the D_únedain_, last of Aragon Elessar's kin and also to Gabriel Van Helping, infamous monster hunter and Maia warrior. I am human, yet feel a deep connection to my distant Elven kin. My people are shrouded in mystery and legends. In the end though, I am only a woman who tried to do her best in this never-ending battle against the Dark. My story is not as romantic or grand as that of my ancestors Lord Aragon and Lady Arden but it is entertaining enough, I suppose.

My story begins when I was a maiden of twenty-three summers and I was in Paris on a mission to hunt down the so-called "Opera Ghost" at the legendary Opera Populaire...


	2. Van Helsing's Daughter

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my OCs.**

**Chapter One: Van Helsing's Daughter  
**  
Isobel Van Helsing was already at a table when Giles Andre and Richard Firmin entered the dingy bar, looking for the hunter the Knights of the Holy Order had sent. The bartender directed them to her and they looked at her incredulously. "You are the one they sent to deal with this menace? You are but a mere woman! We asked for **_Van Helsing_** especially!" Firmin asked in shock when she pushed her hooded cloak back to reveal her face.

She sighed. "I am not a_ 'mere woman,'_ gentlemen and you have not been cheated. The Knights of the Holy Order did send you a Van Helsing. I am Gabriel Van Helsing's daughter and my name is Isobel." she said, annoyed at their reactions.

Firmin opened his mouth to protest some more but Andre nudged him. "Keep quiet! I do not care if the Knights sent us a woman or not but she is a Van Helsing nonetheless! At the moment, she is possibly the only hope we have of getting peace at the Opera" he hissed. His partner grumbled but quietly sat down.

"Well, then Mademoiselle Van Helsing, what do you know of our situation?" Andre asked. Isobel looked up at him and he felt unnerved. Those glittering eyes looked as if they were reading his soul.

"Only what you put in the letter-that there is a ghost haunting the Opera house. You put in no specifics. Why is that?" she said at last. "To be honest, it is because of the 'Opera Ghost.' If it knew that we were sending a monster hunter on the trail, it would wreak deadly havoc and we cannot afford to lose audience members. That is why we arranged to meet you at this godforsaken bar." Firmin explained.

"I see..." was the laconic reply. For several long moments, she appeared to be deep in thought. The heavy-lidded pale eyes seemed to be in a trance as the monster hunter stared off into space. Andre was just about to give her a tap on her shoulder when she suddenly came to life.

"I have an idea. My mother is a noblewoman. I will frequent the Opera with a colleague of mine, but as Lady Byington's daughter and a possible patroness only. I will also attempt to befriend some of the workers and look up some of the Holy Order's contacts there for information." Isobel said softly.

Firmin sighed with obvious relief. He would never admit it, but this girl might actually be the key in getting rid of that bloody ghost. Once she did, they could pretend as if it had never happened and things would go on as planned. He and Andre would finally have their fortune after being in the junkyard business.

"There is a gala tomorrow. We shall send you tickets to every show and make a point to invite you to rehersals."Firmin said as he handed her two tickets. Isobel smiled softly. "Then gentlemen, we have an accord and there is nothing else left to discuss. I will be at the gala tomorrow with an escort, who is an ally and I will hunt down the Opera Ghost." There was a strange feral light in those green eyes that reminded the managers uncomfortably of a cat on the hunt.

Andre smiled nervously as he and Firmin made a time for her to be at the Opera House before taking their leave. Isobel watched them go, a slight smile playing upon her lips. She stood up and pushed her dark green hood up. With a nod of thanks to the owner of the bar, Isobel made her way to one of the "safe houses" for her people, the Dúnedain Rangers.

Gwydion Niall, her friend and fellow Dúnedain was already at the flat and making dinner for her, his fiancee and Isobel's cousin Elemmírë Telcontar, and finally Valamir Niall, the captain of the guard for the Leaders of the Rangers and the Council of Elders.

"Who is the most reliable contact we have at the Opera house?" was the first question that came out of her. Gwydion chuckled. "Hello to you too, Idril."

"Madame DuLoc...she is the chief costume designer and knows a little of the Rangers, as her sister is a nun in the employ of the Holy Order. Would you like for me to arrange a meeting?" the ever-practical Elemmírë said calmly.

"That would be incredibly helpful, as I don't know how much information I am likely to get out of the workers, as I am going to be a noblewoman and not a monster hunter." Isobel gave a greatful smile towards her cousin.

"What are you supposed to be catching this time?" Valamir asked with some interest. "The 'Opera Ghost' or 'Phantom of the Opera.' Apparently he demands a salary and wreaks havoc with the productions!" Isobel rolled her eyes as she sat down at the table and gratefully accepted the plate that her cousin passed to her.

Gwydion shook his head. "What, did he die with his taxes unpaid?" he snickered and Valamir almost choked from laughter. Isobel smirked. "Perhaps!" she joked as they all erupted into laughter and started reminiscing about different missions they'd been on together and of the adventures they'd shared.  



	3. In Dreams

**Author's note: Things may seem a bit confusing, and I know this is sort of an odd crossover, but in the end, everything will make sense. Oh, and another thing, the events of the Van Helsing movie took place about twenty four years earlier.**

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Chapter Three: Under Watchful Eyes

High above the little group, the Phantom of the Opera surveyed his kingdom from the catwalks. He snorted when he got a good long look at the Vicomte De Chagny. _'The boy looks as if all he cares about is his appearance yet still has the love of shallow little girls' _Erik thought, knowing once the ballet rats got a good gander at the Vicomte, the giggles and overly dramatic swooning would begin. Looking over at the other man, the Phantom had a funny feeling that this nobleman was no fool. This Delven fellow looked as if he would be quite the opponent in a fight which made Erik feel uneasy.

Turning his attention to the woman, Erik studied her, ignoring the goosebumps that crept over his arms. This woman was pleasant to look at, although nothing compared to his beloved Christine. She had plain brown hair and green eyes, nothing remarkable. Yet she walked with an almost feline grace, the air of a warrior. It unnerved him more then the Delven or De Chagny men although he couldn't name why.

_'This woman is dangerous' _Erik thought as he silently followed them, hidden in the darkness. Once or twice he noticed that the Lady Byington kept looking about with narrowed eyes. Again, his inner voice warned him that danger lurked greatly in this odd woman.

"Ah...good, good. The rehearsals for Il Muto have already begun. Monsieur le Vicomte, you already know our lovely Prima Donna, La Carlotta. Monsieur Lord Delven, Mademoiselle Lady Byington, this is our foremost leading lady La Carlotta Giudicelli." Andre said with quick look around the stage as he introduced the three nobles to the main cast members.

"How do you do, Signora?" Gwydion asked softly, taking her hand in his and kissing it. The Prima Donna instantly became all of a twitter-giggling and blushing like a girl half her age. Isobel caught Raoul's eye and smothered a laugh.

Christine was standing next to Meg, looking for the white shirt she would wear as Serafimo in Il Muto when she saw Raoul standing next to a young noblewoman. The woman turned and Christine gasped. It was Isobel Byington!

"Christine, what's the matter? Do you know her?" the young girl asked, tilting her head in a puzzled manner. "When Raoul and I were children at the seashore in Brittany, for some summers a girl about five years older then myself would stay at the neighboring house. Her name was Isobel and the three of us became fast friends. I never saw her again after I was eleven years old...she was fifteen at the time and her parents decided to move back to England." she explained, feeling a tinge of nostalgia at the memories.

Isobel noticed the young chorus girl watching her and turned to study her carefully. "Raoul...is that Christine?" she gasped, eyes wide. The Vicomte grinned. "Yes...I was waiting to see if you would recognize her. Come, I'll reintroduce you two." he said and gestured for Christine to come over.

"Hello, Little Lotte." the young woman said, eyes dancing with laughter. "Hello, Little Elf!" Christine laughed and gently hugged Isobel. "Goodness, you have grown into a lovely young maiden!" Isobel exclaimed, smiling. " Me? Little Elf, you must be mad! You have grown into a beautiful Lady, just like your mother!" the young soprano laughed again, all of her tension released from her face.

Unseen high above them, Erik blinked in shock at this unexpected revelation. This Isobel was yet another childhood friend of Christine's? Then it clicked. When Christine first entered his tutelage, she used to reminisce about the summers spent by the sea. Mostly she talked about was her father and how he had dubbed her 'Little Lotte'. Yet there were times she spoke of a maid named Isobel, the daughter of an elusive British noblewoman.

Apparently, Isobel wove incredibly elaborate tales about elves in an unknown age of Earth thus causing her playmates to call her 'Little Elf'.  
So what was this 'long-lost' friend of her doing at the Opera Populaire now? First his bizarre dreams, then Raoul, next Christine unmasking him and now this woman? What strange song was Fate writing now?

"What are you doing here though, Isobel? What brings you back to France after so many years?" the innocent soprano asked wonderingly. The green eyed woman froze for a split second before smiling brightly. "Well, my suitor Marcus Delven has some relatives here, and we decided to visit them for a bit. The memories of my childhood and our appreciation for music lead us to the Opera Populaire. We wanted to acquaint ourselves with it before deciding to become patrons." she explained.

"Well, it certainly is a small world. Funny how three childhood friends reunite." the Vicomte remarked, smiling at the two women. Gwydion had managed to tear himself away from Carlotta and made his way over to the little group. "Christine, this is Marcus Delven, a good friend and my suitor." Isobel said, with a quick mischievous grin for Gwydion.

They smiled at one another and introduced themselves before Christine had to go back to rehearsal, as Carlotta was giving her the evil eye. "I must be off, but I will see you tonight for the opening of Il Muto. I am glad to see you again, my old friend." Isobel said sincerely. Raoul smiled again. "As do I, Little Elf. It was good to meet you Marcus and I do hope you will be a good match for my dear Elf-maiden." he half-joked. Gwydion gave a bright grin. "It was good to meet you too, Monsieur le Vicomte. I can promise you that I will take care of Isobel." he responded as they walked outside to their separate bourghams.

Once inside the carriage, Isobel visibly relaxed. She was never truly comfortable with the nobility, even though her beloved grandmother had been a noblewoman herself and passed on her estates to her daughter and granddaughter.

"Did you sense it?" she asked quietly, staring out the window. Gwydion nodded. "Yes, I did. Something-or someone was watching us." he said, frowning and running his hands through his hair. "Whatever this ghost is, he certainly knows how to avoid being seen. My heart tells me that this mission is going to be harder then all the rest." Isobel finally turned so that she was facing Gwydion.

She looked up at her closest friend, her green eyes veiled and troubled. "Yes, this mission will be harder then the rest." Isobel murmured and spoke no more during the ride home. Once more, the Ranger prayed feverently to the Star-Queen._ 'Varda, holy Queen of Stars, watch over the Elfstone's kin. Let not the darkness touch her...'_


	4. Under Watchful Eyes

**Note:** **"Aranel" is Quenya for **Princess**, according to the English/Quenya word list I downloaded from Ardalambion. Although Isobel/Idril isn't _technically_ royalty, she _is_ a Telcontar and that's why her friends gave her that pet name. Oh, Elemmírë and Idril are cousins because their mothers are sisters. Just a little FYI. )**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything but my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU-ness. I'm going by mainly the ALW play/movie with some Leroux and Kay mixed in.  
****

Chapter Four: A Storm Is Coming

Once at the flat, Isobel retired to her little room to change before meeting with Madame DuLoc. She gently weaved her hair into a single braid that fell down her back and put on a simple white blouse and plain blue skirt.

"_Aranel_? Madame DuLoc is here to see you."Valamir said softly, startling Isobel out of her thoughts. She smiled and walked out into the dining room. Marie DuLoc was already sitting next to Elemmírë and the two were in deep discussion. They looked up and smiled when the young Ranger entered and sat down next to them.

"Mademoiselle Isobel Van Helsing, I presume?" Marie asked smoothly. "Yes. It is good of you to come on such a short notice." Isobel responded, studying the older woman for a moment. She had a stern but kind face framed by auburn curls and accentuated by deep-set brown eyes.

"Anything to help the Order that my sister has dedicated her life to." Marie said quietly, waiting for the Ranger to speak first. "I need to know almost everything about this 'Opera Ghost' and any odd occurrences that are or could be connected to him." Isobel said, picking up pen and paper to take notes.

"Well, he has been here since Monsieur Lefevre bought the Opera House and possibly before. I do not know, as Monsieur Lefevre hired me two years after he became manager. Madame Giry, the ballet mistress has the most contact with the Phantom. Apparently, she is the only one he trusts to deliver his letters and demands to the management." The two female Dúnedain looked at each other in mild surprise. _'Now this is getting interesting'_ Elemmírë thought as she watched her cousin write down a few notes.

"Interesting. Is there anything else?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. Marie thought for a moment and then nodded. "Yes...he has also taken an interest in an unknown chorus girl named Christine Daaé, daughter of the famous Swedish violinist Gustave Daaé. Beautiful young woman she is, but I believe she has never really gotten over her father's death and she is quite the introvert. A few weeks ago, La Carlotta left briefly before the Gala night and the managers were so desperate that they gave the role of Elissa to little Christine. They were prepared to have refunds but the girl took them all by surprise. She wowed the crowd and our patron, the Vicomte De Changy." Madame Duloc explained.

Isobel froze, stunned into silence._ 'Christine and Raoul, mixed up in the affairs of this Phantom?'_ she thought and for a moment the elusive feeling of fear that had plagued her ever since she'd seen her two childhood friends suddenly washed over her.

The Hunter regained her composure and continued with her question. "Really? Was Madame Giry involved in this? What was Christine's reaction?" Isobel said, forcing her natural concern for her friends out of her mind.

The costume designer nodded again. "Yes, Madame Giry was the one who told Messieurs Andre and Firmin that Christine had been taking lessons from 'a great teacher'. She seemed confident that little Daaé could sing the part. As for Christine herself, the poor thing seemed absolutely bewildered by the attention. Of course, she sang like an Angel from Heaven the night of the Gala but I feel it was all too much, too soon for her. Now with today's incident, the poor lamb's head must be turned."

"What happened?" Elemmírë asked, blue eyes wide. "From what I heard, the Phantom wanted Christine to play the part of the Countess and sent letters threatening great disaster if his orders were not followed. The managers ignored him and placed Christine in the silent role. La Carlotta is, of course, the lead." she explained.

_'Oh Eru..no wonder the managers looked tense.'_ Isobel thought and wrote down more notes about the key players of this little drama. "What time did this occur?" she asked. "About seven in the morning, before everyone was up." Marie answered, watching the two women take notes.

"So, it happened two hours before Gwydion and I arrived. Yes, this definitely explains why Andre and Firmin looked as if they were ready to explode at the slightest ill word." the Hunter muttered to herself, making a list of the key players and double checking to make sure she had all the unusual incidents in chronological order.

"Is this it?" Elemmírë tilted her head in a catlike manner as she looked curiously at Madame DuLoc. "Yes, to the best of my knowledge." the costume designer replied, shifting in her seat a bit. "Very well, you may take your leave. I thank you for all your information; no doubt it will prove to be very helpful. If anything else occurs, please inform me." Isobel said with true sincerity in her voice. Marie nodded and left quietly, hoping that the young Van Helsing would bring a stop to the current shenanigans.

Once the informant left, Isobel sank into a plush chair to think. "I cannot believe that somehow Christine Daaé is at the heart of this matter." she said softly to her cousin. "Why not?" Elemmírë asked from her place at the window. "Because when last I knew her, she was an innocent little girl who had been blessed with the voice of an angel. Why would this ghost be interested in her? According to the managers all he does is wreak havoc on productions and demands a salary. Something is not adding up." Isobel frowned, disturbed "I agree. My heart tells me that there are many layers to this story and only at the end will the truth be revealed." Elemmírë said, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes. "Things will reveal themselves in due course. For now, I must continue my charade as it is almost time for the opening production of Il Muto." Isobel stood up and retired to her room to get ready.

Once in her room, she pondered over what to wear. The white dress was certainly becoming, but not the height of fashion and Isobel needed to play her part to the utmost perfection. After about fifteen minutes of irritated grumbling about the "bloody fashion" she chose a deep blue satin dress and fancy boots. She pulled back her hair into one long braid around her head that was held in place by rhinestone combs. Isobel stared at her reflection. Who was that stranger, looking back at her? The Dúnedain had disappeared and the Lady Byington had taken her place.

"_Aranel_? Are you ready? The carriage will be here any minute!" Valamir warned. "Coming!" she called with a final look at herself. Taking a deep breath, Isobel and Gwydion waved good-bye to Elemmírë and Valamir before driving off to see "Il Muto" at the Opera Populaire


	5. A Disaster Beyond All Imagination

**Disclaimer: Do I look like Tolkien, Leroux, Webber or Sommers?**  
****

Chapter Five: A Disaster Beyond All Imagination

Isobel and Gwydion sat warily in Box Five with Raoul. Now that the euphoria of meeting a long-lost friend had worn off, both Dúnedain could see that the young Vicomte looked tense, puzzled and angry. Now that Isobel knew this, she silently promised to ruthlessly hunt down this 'Ghost' to spare her beloved friends further pain.

Gwydion could hear the gossip in the people in the box below them. "...well, I heard that the Phantom vowed 'a disaster beyond all imagination' if that young soprano, Mam'selle Daaé did not sing the lead role tonight and if Box Five was sold. Of course, both managers ignored both the demands and warnings and let Carlotta have the lead." The Countess de Charbourg whispered loudly to her friend. Gwydion lifted an eyebrow to Isobel who gave a slightly skeptical look about them.

Raoul obviously heard the two women talking, for he gave a tired sigh and a rueful smile at them. "All they talk about here is that Ghost! It gets very tiresome and I wish the prankster would be caught!" he said, his irritation at the current situation showing in his voice. Isobel was just about to ask him a question when the Overture started. Simply smiling and leaning back in her chair, she watched the Opera with real interest but still kept an eagle eye out for any suspicious activity.

La Carlotta was clearly in her glory. Christine looked as if she'd rather eat old cheese then pretend to "kiss" the showy diva. Now the Prima Dona was strutting around the stage as her fiancee, Ubaldo Piangi entered as Don Attillo. The two exchanged a humorous recitive as "Serafimo" scurried off to a corner and pretended to dust a dresser.

As Carlotta and the chorus sang, there was a booming voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Did I not instruct that Box Five was to be kept empty?" Erik growled from a hidden catwalk high above the audience. 'The unabashed impudence of those fools! To give my own private box to that little boy and his two friends!' he raged to himself.

Isobel's eyes were now removed from the stage and began darting around the audience. Gwydion's look grew grim as he heard the little blonde ballerina gasp "He's here, the Phantom of the Opera!" Christine Daaé's face paled as she murmured to herself "It's him!". Feeling enraged at her moment of triumph being spoiled and looking for an outlet to vent her frustration upon, the Prima Donna rounded upon the chorus girl. "Your part is silent, you little toad!" she hissed in a voice so full of malice that Christine flinched. Erik saw a red veil descend over his eyes at that comment. "A toad, madam? Perhaps it is you who are the toad!" he called out in a voice full of anger and hate.

Now the general audience shifted restlessly. The thought that was present as the level of fear rose was _"What sort of disaster will occur"?_ Nonplused, Carlotta defiantly motioned for M.Reyer to being the song again. Just as she was about to end the first verse, instead of music, the sound of a croaking toad escaped from her throat. Blinking back embarrassment, she went on with the song. The audience sat silent and waiting, the fear reaching fever pitch. Goosebumps raced up and down Isobel's spine and she shuddered.

The croaking began again and now the fear lessened as the audience laughed as one. "Croak! Croak! Croak!" Carlotta was tuning beet red now as the audience took an almost perverse pleasure in her humiliation. Then just as suddenly as it began, the mirth died as they heard the almost insane, hysterical laughter of the Phantom. "Behold! She is singing tonight to bring down the chandelier!" Erik yelled, not bothering to hide his mirth as he toyed with the fixture and the audience's minds. He caused the lights on the chandelier to flicker a few times for effect but a sudden movement stopped him. Joseph Buquet was scurrying down the tap door, having seen all. This Erik could not allow, and so he leapt after him.

Unaware of the deadly chase above them, Carlotta rushed off stage crying hysterically. Hoping to avert further disaster, Andre and Firmin rushed to calm the audience. "Uh...uh...ladies and gentleman, we humbly apologize for this inconvenience. After the ballet from Act 3, Christine Daaé will take the role of Countess." Firmin nervously wiped sweat off of his brow. Andre continued, motioning for Reyer to start the music. "Please be patient, for in ten minute's time the show will resume." he stuttered, praying that his face wasn't nearly as red as Carlotta's from embarrassment. The ballet corps ran to take their places as they began the "Dance of the Country Nymphs", complete with real sheep. The audience smiled, a feeling of munificence descending upon them. What disaster? This was a comedy!

The chase of life and death continued. Although Joseph Buquet was Chief of the Flies, he was no match for Erik. With reflexes faster then a hunting cat's, he threw the Punjab lasso at Buquet and pulled tightly. The man was jerked off of his feet and as he lay dying, the Phantom threw his body down onto the stage.

Everyone screamed in horror and pandemonium erupted. Raoul bolted from his seat and dashed for Christine, who stood silently on stage, Isobel and Gwydion on his heels. "Should we follow them?" Gwydion hissed in an undertone. Isobel shook her head. "No, we need to talk to the managers. Raoul will protect Christine." she said softly as they spotted Andre and Firmin.

"No one panic! It was merely an accident, only a simple accident!" he yelled over the chaos. "Who was he?" Isobel asked quietly, as the guards gently covered the body and took it away. "Joseph Buquet, Chief of the Flies."Andre replied. "Any idea on why he may have been killed?" Gwydion asked slowly. "He'd-he'd seen the Opera Ghost sir!" Meg Giry said in a shaking voice. Isobel spun around to look at her. "What? How?" she asked slowly, eyes boring into the younger girl's.

"About a month ago, Buquet claimed to see the Phantom without his mask when he was climbing the rafters and the Opera Ghost disappeared in a rage. He has been telling us all about his 'narrow escape' all month." the young blonde girl said softly, still shaking. Isobel noticed that and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Thank you, little one." Isobel replied gently, watching her run back to the comforting arms of her friends and her mother.

It was about twenty minutes later when Christine and Raoul returned. Both Rangers looked up mid-discussion about what sort of person Buquet had been and what he might have done to warrant such a death. "Go and talk to her, maybe you can find out more information. I'll stay here and keep talking to the managers" he whispered, nudging her in the direction of her friends. Isobel nodded her thanks and made her way over to them.

"Christine, what happened? What on Earth is going on?" she cried, for once not having to fake any of her emotions. The soprano looked up, her face still pale but she seemed to have calm down a little bit. Raoul opened his mouth to speak, but the younger brunette shook her head 'no'. "Not here! He may hear us, and then we shall all be doomed!" Christine reminded him, fright still evident in her voice. The Vicomte's grip on her hand tightened protectively as she calmed once more.

"Christine, I ask you once more-what on Earth is going on? Why are you speaking in riddles?" Isobel suddenly felt protective of the younger girl. Being an only child and the daughter of two monster hunters made her incredibly protective towards her younger friends. Now, more then ever she prayed that the younger woman would trust her enough to explain things.

"If it is not too much trouble to either you or your fiancee, may I come over in a week's time? This is the last show of the season until January. I swear to you that I will tell all." Christine looked up earnestly at her friend. Isobel nodded, and turned to Raoul. "You are invited too, of course." she said with a slight ghost of a smile. He gave a quick nod of assent before walking Christine back to the relative safety of the ballet dormitories.

As they took their leave of the stunned managers, who went off to announce that the show had been canceled, Isobel narrowed her eyes at the rafters. 'I will find you, Opera Ghost. Make no mistake about that.' she mentally snarled.

"What do you think?" Gwydion asked, drawing Isobel out of her thoughts as they settled into the carriage. " Buquet seemed to be a rather lecherous character, but I can't imagine that he had made an enemy vicious enough to kill him like _that_." she mused. "Perhaps we are dealing with something other then a ghost?" her friend suggested.  
The female Ranger shrugged. "It's possible...but we'll know more once Christine comes over next week." she responded, frowning a little.

She didn't like the idea of not knowing what this 'Opera Ghost' was. Like her father, Isobel just wanted to know two things in a mission: what it was, and how to kill it. Werewolves were a piece of cake, thanks to her "uncle" Carl re-creating the antidote that was used to cure Van Helsing twenty-four years ago. Vampires were tough, but nothing she couldn't handle. Sorcerers were deadly and yet most were incredibly vain and arrogant. That usually gave the Dúnadan an edge she could work with. Isobel enjoyed a challenge, but this mission would be harder then most with all the personal stakes in it. 


	6. A Glimpse of Twilight

**Author's note: Latest installment. No flames, but constructive criticism and reviews in general are always appreciated. Is anyone interested in seeing the cast list I have for this fic?   
  
Pairings:** E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU-ness. I'm going by mainly the ALW play/movie with some Leroux and Kay mixed in. Van Helsing's story takes place about twenty odd years earlier, and there may be some AU qualities in the LoTR category.

**_Summary:_** When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?****

Chapter Six: A Glimpse of Twilight

Down, down, down into dark madness. A red curtain closed in around Erik's brain as he let loose a howl full of anguish. Don Juan Triumphant swirled in his head, an outlet to paint his emotions on. Love, hate, and despair spun him around and around until all he could see was his opera. _'Past the point of no return...the final threshold...Aminta...Christine...' _was his last thought before the dark dreams claimed him.

_"Uich gwennen na 'wanath ah na dhín...O môr henion i dhú...Tinúviel...Tinúviel elvanui, Elleth alfirin ethelhael...O hon ring finnil fuinui A renc gelebrin thiliol!"_ he heard a voice call out in an unfamiliar language as the fog around him cleared. A woman clothed in silver and blue stood before him, dancing under the innumerable stars.  
He could not make out her features-all he could see was her long brown hair streaming out behind her. Once again, he hear someone call out "Tinúviel!" The woman looked up, before turning and running into the forest. Erik found himself running after her, but the ethereal woman disappeared in a blur of color.

Erik woke up briefly before plunging back into his dark nightmares with no respite. The kisses between Christine and Raoul firmly etched themselves into his brain time and again in the long night ahead of him.

One week later, Elemmírë and Valamir left to go horseback riding through the countryside so that their friends would be left in peace when Christine and Raoul stopped by to visit. While waiting, Isobel began to pace, growing antsy. Not patient by nature, she had learned the hard way how to control her quick temper so it wouldn't interfere with her missions.  
"They're here, _Aranelinya_." the black haired Ranger said softly, drawing back the curtain. Isobel greeted them as they knocked gently on the door, ushering them to the couch where they could sit down comfortably. Christine looked scared and was acting very fidgety while Raoul appeared to be uncertain.

"How are you?" the green-eyed Dúnadan asked, studying them closely. The young soprano let out her breath in one long sigh. "Not very well, but I will feel better after I explain to you what is going on. If I tell you, perhaps it will set my mind at ease." Christine said quietly. Gwydion made as if to stand up but Raoul shook his head 'no'. "No, no, stay. If you end up becoming a Patron, you need to understand exactly what you're getting into." he told Gwydion. The older man shrugged and sat down next to Isobel on a chair.

"You remember my father's tale of Little Lotte and the Angel of Music?" Christine asked her old friend. Isobel nodded, wondering what this had to do with the "Opera Ghost". "On his deathbed, he swore to me that he would send me the Angel to protect and teach me. Not long after that, Madame Giry came to take me to the Opera Populaire. The first three years were dreadful. I missed my father terribly, and I cried myself to sleep every night." Christine's eyes darkened with unhappy memories as she recounted her tale.

"When I went down to the chapel to pray for my father's soul, I heard a violin playing and a voice from above singing softly. It was an old Swedish folksong, of the sort Father used to sing. I knew the words and began to sing softly along. Afterwards, the voice told me he was the Angel of Music and asked if he could teach me voice. I said yes, of course." She paused, looking over at her best friend. Both of them had changed from the carefree children at the beach yet Christine knew Isobel would believe her. Closer then sisters, Isobel always looked out for the younger girl and was fiercely protective of her.

"I was twelve at the time. For the past seven years, the Angel-or so I thought-trained my voice. It was only until two months ago that I was granted a chance to sing center stage, when La Carlotta 'left' and Madame Giry recommended me for the part of Elissa. That night, my Angel appeared to me. That-that was the night I discovered that the Angel was only a mortal man." Her tone became laced with mixed emotions.

"How on Earth did you discover he was merely human?" Isobel asked, frowning slightly. "He enchanted me with his voice and led me down under the Opera House. I fell asleep in his underground home and the next morning, I...I unmasked him. He was composing and being so moved by the piece, I felt as if I just had to see the face behind the mask. Gently, I removed it and what I saw...oh God, I can never forget that sight! His face...his face was hideously deformed underneath the white porcelain. That utter rage...he frightened me! Oh, how he frightened me! Yet...in his eyes, I saw all the sadness that the world had wrought upon him. Those eyes...they plead, they threaten and adore..." Christine's voice trailed off, lost in thought. Raoul blanched at her dreamy tone.

"The impostor 'Angel' is also the Phantom of the Opera." the Vicomte said stonily. Gwydion and Isobel's heads jerked up at that new piece of information. Both had suspected it during the recounting, but held their peace. Isobel looked towards her friend for confirmation. Christine nodded. "His name is Erik." she said softly. All three looked at her in shock. "He told you?" Gwydion asked slowly, surprised. "I asked him before he led me back to my dormitory room." she responded, looking down at her feet.  
"I...I didn't know what to think...he killed Buquet-I think he must have gotten too close for comfort for Erik. He was responsible for that dreadful humiliation of La Carlotta. All for 'furthering my career'...he was using my voice to show the world his music." Christine's voice was small, and she buried her face in her hands. Isobel and Gwydion looked at one another, unnerved. So this was why the Phantom was currently wreaking havoc on the Populaire! The female Ranger gave a low growl in her throat. She was like this 'Ghost' less and less with each passing minute.

Isobel went over and hugged her friend. "We'll think of something, I promise you that. It's growing late and you should get some rest." she said. Christine gave a small laugh-Isobel had always been the older sister she never had. "May I visit again?" she asked. The green-eyed woman nodded. "You don't have to ask, you are always welcome with us!" Isobel reassured her. Christine gave a grateful smile and hugged the older woman.

Before they left, Gwydion pulled Raoul over. "Watch over her, monsieur. I doubt I have to tell you, but please be careful. Isobel wouldn't take it kindly if something dreadful happened to either of you. Be on your guard." he whispered. There was a grim look in the Vicomte's eyes. "You don't have to tell me twice Marcus. I'll kill Erik before he can touch Christine again. Once more, I thank you for hearing her out. Perhaps together we can figure out a way to stop this monster before he ruins all our lives." Raoul said. Gwydion nodded, grey eyes turning dark.

Once they were gone, Isobel began to pace. "We should tell them who we really are." she said softly. "What? _Aranel_, are you mad?" her friend exclaimed. "It's the only way we can protect them both and hunt this man down! If we keep the charade up, sooner or later they will get suspicious and start asking difficult questions. Questions that will be hard to answer. Also, as brave as Raoul is, he's no match for a demented killer. He's not a Ranger, Gwydion-you know that as well as I do! He could die if he faced off with Erik and to be frank, I will not put my friends in the line of fire! Not while I have breath in my body and the strength to defend them!" she said passionately. Gwydion studied her. He knew there was no stopping her once she had made up her mind, but he'd still try to make her see reason.

"I don't agree with telling them the truth, but it's your mission and not mine. You are my Princess and I will follow you to death and beyond. Grant me this-wait until Valamir and Elemmírë return home so we may all discuss it." He asked, trying to compromise. To his relief, the fire-spirit in Isobel's eyes dimmed and she acquiesced. "Done." Isobel nodded. Her thoughts returned to this Erik, this Phantom._ 'Elbereth, grant me the strength to defend my friends...'_ she prayed, waiting for her cousin and her Guardian to return to the flat.  



	7. Shades of Grey

**Author's note: **Bah! I had the hardest time writing this chapter, probably because the Muses decided to switch things around a little. The Masquerade is in the next chapter, and dear Idril is going to meet Erik. I'm not sure I did justice to the truth telling scene-I feel it's rushed, but as of now, Christine and Raoul just want to forget about what Isobel/Idril told them. It will come back and tug on their minds in later chapters though.

Also:  
-"_Elleth_"-Sindarin word for Elf-maiden  
-"_Aranelinya_"-Quenya for "My Princess"  
-Elemmírë's alias is Eleanor Byington and yes, she is Idril/Isobel's cousin. Idril's mother Alatariel has a younger sister named Morwen. Morwen married a descendent of Dol Amroth blood, and Elemmírë/Eleanor is their daughter.

Reviews and constructive criticism is appreciated, no flames though. Trying very hard to keep Phantom people in character and Idril from becoming a raging Mary Sue. It was never my intent to make her a MS, so the Muses are going to work on keeping her in line. Mwuahahaha.

**Pairings:** E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU.

Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?****

Chapter Seven: Shades of Gray_  
Two weeks later_:

"I think we should tell Christine and Raoul the truth." Isobel addressed her friends a few days later. Elemmírë looked aghast. "Our people have successfully hidden away from society for over a thousand years, trusting very few people. What makes you think they won't run off in fright, blabbing about to society?" she asked her cousin angrily. "They're my childhood friends, Ele! I-we-can trust them. Raoul is not like other men, I can assure you he would never betray a secret. As for Christine, she especially will not tell. She was brought up on legends and fairytales, and our history is shrouded in that." Isobel argued. Why couldn't they see how personal this mission had become to her and how she longed to be completely honest with her friends?

Christine and Raoul, along with Elemmírë and Gwydion had been her only friends of her lonely childhood. As a Telcontar, most children had stayed a respectful distance away from her. They were often in fear and sometimes awe of her, as the daughter of a Maia warrior who sundered his fate with a mortal's. To her people, Alatáriel and Gabriel were this age's Aragorn and Arwen. There was a constant pressure to act older and to conduct herself in a seemly manner as befitted the Lady's daughter. Some of people feared her Maiar blood, wondering if she'd inherited her father's preternatural abilities while the other made much over it. They treated her differently for it, when in actuality it was nothing special. Isobel was a mere mortal and had very little perks from her father's heritage.

Valamir finally spoke up. "I know how loyal you are to your friends, _Aranelinya_. I personally feel that you should tell most of the truth, but leave out the Rangers. Raoul is the current Patron and has a right to know about the managers sending in a Hunter. You may want to leave your father out of this, as you know he's regarded as an infamous murderer here. I will leave that to your discretion though." he said mildly. Isobel threw him a grateful glance. It wasn't an accident that the Guardsman of the Council of Elders nicknamed "The Mediator". Elemmírë and Gwydion looked slightly mollified and gave quick nods of ascent. "Be it so then." Isobel bowed her head, mentally gearing up for the confrontation she knew she'd have tonight when Christine and Raoul came over for tea.

About two hours later, the soprano and the Vicomte arrived. Gwydion,Elemmírë and Valamir had decided to talk to Madame DuLoc, in case she had heard anything else at the Opera Populaire. The first thing Christine noticed was that Isobel looked nervous as she graciously invited them to sit down.

They chattered a bit, making small talk until the older woman sighed and turned towards them. "We are still best friends, no?" she asked slowly. Raoul and Christine looked at one another, surprised. "Yes, of course Isobel. Why wouldn't we be?" the brunette replied, unsure of where this was heading. "You know I trust you and I feel that you trust me. Therefore, I must tell you the truth." Isobel said, closing her eyes briefly.

"My dear friend, what on Earth are you talking about?" Raoul asked, now completely puzzled. Isobel sighed. it was now or never. "I had to lie when you asked me what I was doing back in France after all these years. Marcus-whose real name is Gwydion, by the way-and I are not getting married, nor is he my suitor. We are partners together." she began and was interrupted by Raoul. "Partners in what sort of business?" he asked, eyes narrowing a little. Isobel met his gaze head on. "We are monster hunters, members of the Knights of the Holy Order, a secret society dedicated to fighting evil. It is headed by the Pope himself." she replied, straightening her back.

"M-monster hunters? But why...?"Christine asked, her face going pale with shock. "Gwydion and I were hired by Messieurs Andre and Firmin to track down the 'Opera Ghost' who had been wreaking havoc on the thearter." she replied, hoping this wouldn't end badly. "But why you two and how did they know to get in contact with this so-called secret society?" Raoul asked, not believing her.__

'Moment of truth...' "Because I am the daughter of Gabriel Van Helsing and Lady Byington. Madame DuLoc recommended us, as her sister is a Nun in the Order." Isobel said, holding her head up high."You are the daughter of that murderer!" Christine cried in shock. Isobel's back stiffened. "My father is not a murderer! You talk about things that you do not understand, there is terrible evil out in the world-many most people would consider only myths and my parents are some of the few who are left to fight it!" she snapped back, loosing her temper. Her friends backed away, obviously scared of her.

"I swear to you that this does not change a thing. I am still the Isobel you knew...only I have an unorthodox profession." Isobel spread her hands apart in a gesture of peace. 'Please, please believe me. Please don't run away...' she mentally begged, green eyes pleading. Raoul noticed that and his gaze softened. "Prove it." he said quietly. "Very well." Isobel nodded and went into her room. Opening a locked trunk, she took out two swords and quickly changed into more proper fencing attire.

"We will spar, in order to convince you that what I say is true." Isobel handed one sword to Raoul and cleared the living room of furniture. Christine moved away, transfixed at the scene before her. Her childhood friend had disappeared, leaving only a strange woman wearing a tunic and pants before her.

Raoul and Isobel bowed, and quick as lightning, started to spar. Raoul's Navy training was serving him well in the mock fight-he barely left any opening for the Ranger to get through. She gritted her teeth and threw herself wholeheartedly into the sparring. The Vicomte was surprised at her sudden burst of energy, and that was his fatal mistake. Isobel knocked the sword out of his hand and picked it up off of the floor. Christine gasped at the transformation-her eyes were blazing, yet her countenance was calm. All of a sudden the face of the warrior woman vanished, and her friend returned once more.

She sheathed the swords, turning to look at Raoul almost sadly. "Now do you believe me?" Isobel asked softly. Christine was suddenly reminded of Erik with a sharp pang of guilt. Both had that same look in their eyes-a look of utter defeat that people would run screaming from them once they knew the truth.

"Yes...I believe you."she whispered. Raoul nodded, coming out of his daze. "I never knew a woman could fight like that." he half joked, trying to lighten the mood. Isobel's temper flared. "Yes, well, it's astonishing what we women can do if one has an open mind and no care about the absurd rules of society." she retorted sarcastically. The Vicomte blinked, slightly surprised at her anger. As a child, Isobel had always been headstrong and rather fiery, but this wildness, this sarcasm was something else. He realized that he didn't know what she had been through these past years.

Then Isobel surprised them both by bowing deeply and dropping to one knee. "I swear to you that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe." she said. Christine was oddly touched by the older woman's gesture. "I accept." she smiled gently and pulled her friend to stand up.

Isobel smiled back, reassured. "Thank you for not loosing your heads when I told you the truth. I honestly believed both of you would run screaming into the night, and Eleanor would have been justified in disapproving of my decision." she mused. "Eleanor, your cousin!" Raoul blinked, not prepared for yet another shock. She grinned. "Who else? Eleanor is a better archer then I am though..." Isobel trailed off, seeing their utterly confused looks. "Never mind." the Hunter shook her head, dark braid flying from side to side.

Christine suddenly realized that there was a whole different side to her friend, one that she would have to get used to. _'Although I don't know how I will ever get used to the fact that her father is a infamous monster hunter!'_ she thought with a small shudder. She decided to not think about it unless she had to. It reminded her too much of the man of darkness lurking under the Opera Populaire.

In an attempt to bring the conversation back onto a normal topic, Christine brought up the topic of the Opera Populaire's Bal Masque. "So...errr...are you and Marc-uh, Gwydion planning to go to the New Year's Eve Masquerade?" she asked politely. Isobel nodded. "What are you going as?" the older woman inquired. Christine smiled. "I am not sure yet. Perhaps as the Dawn Goddess Eos, or Sleeping Beauty. Do you have any ideas for a costume yet?"

Isobel shrugged, as she hadn't really given it a serious thought. "Hmmm...perhaps as some sort of mythical women. One of the Celtic Queens, or a goddess of some sort. What about you, Raoul?" she said. The Vicomte gave a half shrug. "Perhaps as a soldier." he responded carelessly. They talked for a few more moments, before realizing it was growing late. The three friends said their good-byes and left, each turning over the visit in their mind.

The weeks passed, and the New Year's Masquerade Ball drew closer. Isobel was thumbing through her well-worn copy of The Red Book, written by Frodo and Bilbo Baggins. In it, there was the story of Aragorn and Arwen, Lúthien and Beren as well as the tale of the Quest of the Ring. _'Lúthien...Arwen...Idril Celebrindal...'_ she thought, jumping up and rummaging through her gowns. _'Ah! Here we go!'_ the Ranger smiled before dashing into the common area.

"Gwydion, I know exactly what we should go as!" Isobel said, eyes gleaming with mischief. He grinned at her idea. "Very well, _elleth_. I shall go as a member of the Rohirrim." Gwydion said, mentally preparing his costume. For once, Isobel planned to wear something comfortable and at least try to enjoy herself at the Masquerade. 


	8. Red Death and the Elf Princess

**Author's Note: ** Thank you for your reviews and constructive criticism everyone! They really are very helpful. Keep 'em coming!  
**  
Mominator124**, I never actually thought of it that way. In my mind, the scene played out as Christine being so surprised that her friend whom she thought was a noblewoman turns out to be the daughter of an infamous murderer and claims to be a "monster hunter" that she's in shock. It just doesn't register in her mind at the moment. Also, a part of her still believes Erik is the Angel of Music, and she doesn't want him hurt. In the next few chapters you'll see how she's got a real conflict of interests-Idril is like her older sister, she adores her and looks up to her but Erik is her Angel, whom she practically worships.

**MetalMyersJason, **fear not. Idril will NOT harm Erik in any way. I'm not using the Tinúviel/Nightingale symbolism for no reason. Just remember this quote from the **Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith** novel:_The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins-but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars!_ It'll come into play in later chapters. grins

**Pairings:** E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC****

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The lyrics and the dialouge used in this chapter belong to Abdrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher.

**Summary:** _When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

Chapter Eight: Red Death and the Elf Princess

_Masquerade, paper faces on parade! Masquerade!  
Hide your face so the world will never find you...masquerade!  
Every face a different shade...masquerade!  
Look around, there's another mask behind you!_

There were fireworks going off around the Opera Populaire as Gwydion and Isobel's carriage pulled up. The children of Arda, they were more comfortable at the gatherings of their own people or the informal merrymaking of the peasants. True to their heritage, Isobel had dressed as her namesake and far-distant ancestress, Idril Celebrindal. She even had her "Uncle" Carl make elf ears to complete the look. Gwydion had donned his festival tunic to complete the look of a knight of Rohan

Whatever the two hunters had been expecting, it certainly wasn't the symphony of light, laughter, color and sound that assaulted their senses. "Bloody hell!" Gwydion murmured softly as his friend grinned at him. They entered the foyer, walking towards the Grand Escalier. Merging with the other dancing couples, they whirled 'round and 'round.

_Flash of mauve, splash of puce, fool and king,  
Ghoul and goose, green and black, queen and priest,  
Trace of rouge, face of beast...faces! Take your turn,  
Take a ride on the merry-go-round in an inhuman race!  
Eye of gold, thigh of blue, true is false, who is who?  
Curl of lip, swirl of gown, ace of hearts, face of clown...  
Faces...drink it in, drink it up till you've drowned in the light,  
In the sound...but who can name the face?_

"Christine...will you marry me?" Raoul asked nervously in the foyer, going down on one knee and presenting her with a beautiful diamond ring. Tears sprung to her eyes as she pressed her hands to her face in shock. "Yes, oh yes!" Christine whispered in happiness. The young couple laughed happily as the Vicomte picked her up and spun her around a few times. For once, the Phantom's darkness could not touch their joy.

As the young couple took to the dance floor, Christine shivered as she saw a man in a mask and cape dance around her. It reminded her too much of Erik. They spotted Carlotta, Piangi and the managers walking in with a flourish. It was obvious to all that the managers had just a tad too much to drink.

"Ahhh, what a night this is!" Carlotta sighed in happiness. After a short vacation from the "Opera Ghost", she was prepared to take the world by storm once more. All would forget little Christine after hearing her own lovely voice. "Look at the crowd! They are all here to see you, _cara_!" Piangi reassured his fiancee. "This sort of event makes you glad, doesn't it?" Andre remarked, sipping champagne. "Yes, it makes you proud to know that all the creme de la creme is here."

"They are all watching us, while we are watching them!" Carlotta smirked. She then noticed Christine standing next to the Vicomte de Changy, costumed as Briar Rose, the Sleeping Beauty. The smirk wiped off her face and she started to glower. Meg Giry and her mother joined the little group a few minutes later. "Thank goodness all our fears are in the past!" Meg chirped but Madame Giry didn't seem too convinced. "While these past few weeks have been of peace and relief, just because the Ghost did not send any notes does not mean he has disappeared for good." she warned.The group chose to ignore her. "A very nice change and what a successful Masquerade this will be!" Andre boasted, not knowing he would soon rue his words.

_Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds!  
Masquerade! Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!  
Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads!  
Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you!  
Masquerade! Seething shadows, breathing lies!  
Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you!  
Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes..masquerade!  
Run and hide but a face will still pursue you!_

Christine admired her ring, and then froze in horror. How could she wear this in public? Erik would surely see it! She was firmly convinced the Phantom knew all, and she dared not court any more disaster. Taking the chain that held her beloved father's crucifix necklace, Christine slipped her engagement ring onto it. Raoul noticed and gave her a questioning look. "Oh Christine, why are you doing that? There is no shame in our engagement!" he chided gently. She gave him a sad smile. "I know that Raoul. But for now...it should be kept a secret. It will be like the games of make-believe we played as children in Brittany!" Christine grew excited once again, her girlish spirits rising at the thought of this newest game. "Very well. I just hope that I will understand your reason once this is all over." he sighed.

As they joined in on the fever-pitched dancing, they spotted Isobel and Gwydion in the crowd and walked over to say hello. Christine noticed Isobel had dressed as an elven-maiden, complete with false pointed ears. With her medieval-style blue dress and an elegant woven silver crown, Isobel looked ethereal and distant. Gwydion was the perfect picture of a knight in shining armor, with his dark burgundy tunic and shining broadsword belted at his waist. Together, they made a striking pair, and there was nothing in either their dress or their demeanor to suggest the Hunters they were.

Isobel smiled when she saw her dearest friends. They looked happy about something, although she thought she detected a hint of worry in Christine's eyes. "You look amazing!" Isobel said warmly to the soprano. Christine gave an embarrassed grin. "Really? I felt that going as the Sleeping Beauty was a bit silly and childish." she confessed. "It's not childish...one could say that every costume here is childish. For one night, one is allowed to have fun and take a few liberties regarding dress." Gwydion reassured her.

_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade! Masquerade!  
Hide your face so the world will never find you! Masquerade!  
Every face a different shade...masquerade!  
Look around, there's another mask behind you! Masquerade!  
Burning glances, turning heads...Masquerade!  
Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you! Masquerade!  
Grinning yellows, spinning reds, Masquerade!  
Take your fill, let the spectacle astound you!_

The two couples were dancing energetically when Meg Giry screamed. A figure with a death's head mask dressed in all red descended slowly down the stairs in silence. Isobel narrowed her eyes. She had a good idea of who this might be and she found herself itching for the feel of _Hadhfang_ in her hands.

"Why so silent good messieurs? Does this silence mean that you have missed me? What, were you foolish to believe that I had left the Populaire for good? I have written you an opera, and this is the finished score-Don Juan Triumphant" Erik sneered, shoving the manuscript into Andre's arms.  
"Just a few instructions before rehearsal begins-Carlotta needs to be taught how to act properly. I will not have an overgrown foul peacock strutting 'round the stage and ruining my opera. Piangi also must loose weight, it can't be healthy for an elderly man such as he. Also, a word to my dear managers-kindly do not interfere. Your places are in the office, not the arts!" Erik smirked behind the skull mask. He looked around for his Angel and spotted her standing next to the Byington woman and her suitor, along with the sniveling Vicomte.

Isobel narrowed her eyes as Red Death approached and boldly stood in front of her friends. The feral warrior queen of the Dúnedain was rising in her. It was all she could do from grabbing a sword and ending this mission once and for all.

The Phantom studied Lady Byington for a minute. She truly looked like elven royalty-if Erik was a young boy once more, he would've thought a real elf was walking among them. It brought to mind the old legend Christine used to recite to Meg of a beautiful elven Queen who fell in love with a human and gave up everything, including her immortality to be with him. It also reminded Erik of the odd dreams he had been having for the past few months. _'Tinúviel...Tinúviel...o môr henion i dhú!'_ an inner voice murmured before he banished it quickly.

"As for Miss Daaé...I am sure our **star** will perform admirably. It's true that her voice is good but...should she wish to**_ excel_**, she has much still to learn. But that is only if her** pride** will allow her to return to _me_: her teacher..." The Phantom's green-gold gaze turned from Christine to Isobel, and finally to Raoul.

At that comment, Isobel's self control was practically cutting loose and the soprano knew she had to do something before her headstrong friend did something foolish. No matter what Erik was or what he had done, a part of her still thought of him as an angelic being deserving of worship and complete obedience. So Christine gently pushed her out of the way, half in a trance as she walked towards her dark Angel. It seemed as if the lights grew dim as Sleeping Beauty and the Phantom faced one another, entranced by the other.

Erik broke the spell when he spotted a glittering object around Christine's neck. He grabbed it fiercely and broke the chain, dangling it as if to taunt de Chagny. "Your chains are still mine; you belong to me!" Erik snarled in anger just as Raoul jumped in between them.

With a contemptuous glare for the nobleman, the Phantom disappeared down a trapdoor in a puff of smoke. The crowd was immediately in an uproar and using that to their advantage, the Rangers cornered Madame Giry. "Madame, we need to talk." Isobel said stonily, looking like an angry tigress whose prey has escaped her. "Meet me at my dormitory room in twenty minutes. There is no time, the Vicomte De Changy is in danger and only I know the path to safety" the ballet mistress whispered before dashing away in a hurry down a dark corridor.

Before they left, Isobel made sure that the still-shaken Christine was safe with Meg. The Hunter would take no chances. _'Madame Giry better be able to explain all. I want to know why this deformed man is terrorizing the Opera House and how he came to reside under the catacombs. Perhaps her tale will help me figure out the best way to end this once and for all.' _she mentally growled to herself as they left the dance floor.


	9. A Fairground Tale

**_Author's note_:**Yay, it's almost time for Point of No Return! I kept procrastinating while writing this, so keep those reviews coming! My Muses need to be fed, haha! Oh, a chapter or so back I mentioned a cast list. Here it is:

_Gerard Butler as the Phantom/Erik_

Emmy Rossum as Christine Daaé

Patrick Wilson as Raoul de Chagny

Rose Byrne as Isobel "Idril" Telcontar-Van Helsing

Hugh Jackman as Gabriel Neruo Van Helsing

Rachel Weisz as Alatáriel /Tara Telcontar-Byington

Hans Matheson as Gwydion/Marcus Niall

Drew Barrymore as Elemmírë/Eleanor Telcontar-Byington

Richard Roxbourgh as Valamir/Valjean Niall

**Pairings:** E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC****

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The lyrics and the dialouge used in this chapter belong to Abdrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher.****

Summary:_ When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

_Chapter Nine: A Fairground Tale_

While the Dúnedain waited restlessly, Raoul was fighting his way through the trap door maze. A dozen reflections of Red Death sneered at him and he gritted his teeth and carried on. Unknown to the Vicomte, Erik threw the punjab lasso but it whipped by him harmlessly, thanks to Madame Giry pulling him violently out of the way._ 'Very well, Madame Giry. I will let him go this just this once. But if he ever comes down to my home, there will be no mercy.' _the Phantom thought, collecting his punjab lasso and making his way home.

As the stern ballet mistress made to leave after saving Raoul, he stopped her. "Please Madame Giry..wait!" he pleaded. She didn't meet his eyes. "Monsieur, I know just as much as the next person who lives here." she said. Rould grew angry. "That's not true and you know it!" he snapped. The ballet mistress looked up, troubled. "Please, I beg of you: do not ask. There have been too many accidents here." Now Raoul was surprised.

"Accidents! Please, for all our sakes...and for Christine. She is like your daughter. Do you want her to be in danger at the hands of this madman?" he asked, blue eyes narrowing in anger. That hit a nerve. "Very well. There are two others who want to hear the story too." Madame Giry said softly and led him down a brightly lit corridor. Raoul wasn't surprised when he saw Isobel and Gwydion standing in front of the door, looking pensive. She gestured for the three of them to come in and locked the door.

"It was years ago, at a fairground. A traveling fair, run by gypsies came to Paris and our ballet mistress took us to see it, as so many of the petite rats begged her to let us see it. It was the usual fare-bearded ladies, fortune tellers, contortionists, and the like." Madame Giry said distantly, her mind retracing old memories. Isobel's eyes grew slitted like a cat's as she watched the ballet mistress closely.

"My peers found it to be fascinating but I hated it. There was one banner that intrigued the majority of the petite rats. It was entitled 'The Devil's Child'. Giggling curious girls that we were, of course we had to go in. What I found was a pitiful sight. There was a boy of about twelve years, tied to the bars of the cage and wearing a sack over his head." she began, capturing her audience.

"He was building a little automaton of a monkey when the 'owner', a crude looking man named Javert entered and started whipping him as the boy-I later found out his name was Erik-refused to take off the sack. Once the poor thing had, all of the people around me either burst into laughter and jeers or shrunk away in horror as the boy's face was horribly deformed from birth. The group threw coins at Javert, and left. Only I stayed behind, hidden in shadows. Even now, I do not know why I did so-something compelled me to stay. While that brute was counting the money, the boy made a punjab lasso and killed him." Madame Giry took a breath, knowing she had their full attention now.

"Our eyes locked and I knew he would have killed me too if I screamed. But I did not scream-in fact, I helped him to escape because I pitied him greatly. How could anyone beat a young child mercilessly because his face is different from the norm? So I hid him in the labyrinth underneath this Opera House, hoping to save him more sorrow from the cruel world that awaited him. But he is a genius and his mind could not be contained. At fourteen, he told me he wanted to see the world one last time. We parted, both certain we would never see each other again. The years passed-I married Jules Giry, eventually gave birth to Meg and became ballet mistress. One day, a note was left for me-Erik had returned at the age of twenty-seven and was ready to relinquish the outer world for good. On that day, the Phantom of the Opera was truly born. The genius-the architect, the designer, the magician, and the composer was buried, his intelligence used for mere pranks." The tale ended there and Raoul, Gwydion, and Isobel sat back, stunned into silence.

"Genius he may have once been, but now it has clearly turned into madness!" the Vicomte scoffed. Madame Giry looked away, feeling helpless. Gwydion thanked the older woman for her help, and the three of them left, each lost in their own thoughts.

"Before you leave, I wanted to let you know-I am watching over Christine tonight."Raoul said softly. Isobel whirled around, surprised. "I'll stay with you!" she said immediately. The Vicomte shook his head. "**No** Isobel. You don't always have to play the elder sister. For _once_, let **me** take care of you and Christine. This is now a war between the De Chagnys and this Phantom of madness." Raoul responded with impatience. "Raoul, let me help you! You are **_no match_** for this Erik!" she snapped in utter exasperation. "No! Do not forget, I am part of the Navy. I know how to defend myself. Please, for this one time, let me do this for the woman I love." his gaze softened and Isobel felt herself relenting.

"Oh, very well then! But **swear** to me that if _anything _happens, fetch me. I will never be able to forgive myself if anything happens to either of you." Isobel sighed, growing tired of arguing with the stubborn man. Raoul nodded, seeing how much it was killing her to give up her part in this fight, at least for one day. " Fear not, little elf.The minute something happens, I will send a page to you." he smiled to reassure her. She gave a wan smile back and they had a tense and worried parting.

Once Gwydion and Isobel were back at their flat, the brunette retreated to her room and sat at the window seat to study the stars. She refused to admit it to anyone other then herself, but after listening to Madame Giry's tale, she had felt sorry for the Phantom._ 'No, Erik.'_ her mind corrected and she grew annoyed at herself. Pity would only make her job harder, although now she would have to notify the Dúnedain and the Holy Order of these radical findings. Now that she knew the "Opera Ghost" was entirely human, Isobel could not, in good conscience, merely hunt him down and kill him.  
_  
'Perhaps if I detain him, I can figure out what to do with him...if worse comes to worse,I suppose I can take him captive and he can be sent to the Vatican.'_ she mused, praying for inspiration from Varda and Manwë. 'I have a feeling this is going to be a long night' Isobel thought darkly before she changed into a thin white nightgown and went to sleep.

It **_was_** a long night. Restless dreams of an underground lair and a ghostly voice still pursued her in the dark. It seemed as if everyone was on edge and snappish today-Gwydion and Valamir had a minor argument over swordplay and Elemmírë had been on her case for relenting to Raoul's wishes. The afternoon passed by slowly and Isobel was half tempted to saddle her white Arabian Shadowfax and ride out to the countryside to escape the boredom. Grabbing a random book from the bookshelf, Isobel sat at the window seat and grabbed an apple to eat.

She never got her wish, because no sooner had she sat down halfheartedly with a good book to read, a page appeared from the Opera Populaire. "Lady Byington, Monsieur le Vicomte requests your presence at the Opera House. He says it's terribly important and concerns Miss Daaé!" the thirteen year old boy recited, still out of breath and red-faced from his long run. Isobel shot to her feet. "Thank you, little one." she said absently as she paid him. Gwydion had also heard the message from the kitchen, and they made haste to get ready.

Thirty minutes later, the Hunters were in their carriage and on their way to the Opera Populaire. Raoul was there waiting for them, wearing a puffy white shirt with a tear in one sleeve. "My God, you're hurt!" Isobel exclaimed when she saw him. "What on Earth happened?" Gwydion echoed, grey eyes wide. The Vicomte grew grim as he recited his tale.

"Christine left before dawn to visit her father's grave. The Phantom knocked out the carriage driver and took her place. I of course followed and it's a good thing I did. When I got there, that monster tried one last time to entrance her with that demonic voice. My appearance broke the spell and we dueled. The bastard cut me, but I still won the fight. I would have killed him then and there with no qualm and ended this farce, but for some reason Christine begged me not to. So I grabbed her while he was still lying on the snow and we made a frantic escape back to the city." he explained, tightening his hands into fists. "Please Isobel, don't say 'I told you so'. I know I made a mistake, but I'm not making it again." Raoul added, seeing Isobel's fiery spirit flare up.

"You have a plan, I believe?" Gwydion stepped in before a fight could break out. The nobleman nodded. "We will stage his bloody opera but call in guards. If Christine agrees to sing, I am certain the Phantom will appear in some way. Once he does, the guards can shoot. If they don't kill him, you two can hunt him down in the cellars." Raoul's face was determined and drawn. "Isn't that a bit risky? Erik has proven himself to be utterly capricious, what if he in turn devises some way to escape?" Isobel asked. "We'd have to risk it then...besides, you and I can take on whatever this Opera Ghost comes up with." Gwydion said in answer to Raoul's unspoken thought as they entered the foyer.

"I suppose, but I'm more worried about the innocents who will be caught in the crossfire." Isobel said just as Christine ran up to her, face tearstained. " Isobel, can you come with me to the chapel, I have great need of your advice." the soprano begged. The older woman turned to her companions as if in question. "Go ahead. Gwydion can come with me when I present this idea to the managers and the cast. I'm sure they will not refuse." Raoul said gently and the two women walked off.

Once in the chapel, Christine stared dully out of the stained glass window. "I'm sure Raoul told you what happened." she said softly. Isobel nodded her assent, growing worried for her friend. "He wants me to sing the role of Aminta in _Don Juan Triumphant_. I **cannot** do it Isobel! How can I betray the man who trained my voice?" Christine whispered brokenly. Isobel's eyes grew soft as she sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. Personally, I would rather arm myself to the teeth and go down into the catacombs myself to capture him. I don't want to endanger innocent people in this crazy scheme." Isobel grumbled softly just as Raoul came in.

Christine turned to him, utterly distraught. "Oh God Raoul, don't make me do this! You don't know how much it scares me-it's the thought of Hell, of an ordeal by fire. Erik will take me down to his lair, he's too possessive to ever let me out of his sight and we'll be parted forever. He'll always be there singing songs in my head...if he finds me it won't ever end...he'll always be there singing songs in my head..." the soprano trailed off, looking at the small Angel statue on the chapel alter. Raoul took her hands in his own.

"He's only a man Christine, **only** a man. I will be there with the gendarmes. No harm can come to you. We need to capture him before he haunts us to an early grave." he told her gently.

Isobel placed her hand on Christine's shoulder. "Gwydion and I will be there too. Make no mistake, I'm quite capable of defending you. If Erik tries to harm you or Raoul, I will stop him before he takes another breath. I _am_, after all, the daughter of Gabriel Van Helsing." she stated proudly. Christine looked away somewhat guiltily, she still hadn't fully come to terms that her best friend was the only child of a so-called "infamous murderer". A part of her worried that the darkness she'd glimpsed would one day overtake Isobel, the same way it had overtaken Erik.

The younger woman turned away in frustration. "If I agree to this, do either of you understand what horrors wait for me as his Aminta? How can you ask me to betray my Angel of Music? I'll become his prey-he murders all that's good, he's a killer with no remorse...I will not refuse but a part of me wishes I could." she whispered softly as Raoul drew her close to him and cupped her chin. "Please don't think that I don't care but every hope and every prayer rests on you. Once we lure him out, we will get you to safety and let Isobel finish her mission once and for all." he said, stroking her hair.

Isobel watched them, wondering why she felt at twinge of unease and guilt at the prospect of hunting down Erik. Leaving the young couple to find Gwydion and the managers, she prayed to Eru that her friends and the innocents wouldn't be hurt in any crossfire. 


	10. Foundations of Stone

**Author's note: **I'm baaaack! I FINALLY finished this chapter-procrastination sucks like you can't believe. So reviews are always welcome, my Muses need to be fed, haha.

Anyway, I was bored last night and decided to mess around with PSP and I created a "cover" for this fic. I know in the cast list it has Rose Byrne as Isobel, but I used Liv Tyler instead. The character looks like a mixture between the two actresses. She has Rose's hair and facial features, but Liv's eyes, figure and height.

Go to Photobucket dot com, search for "Evenstar03" and look for the picture that says "Daughter of Twilight cover". It should be the first picture.

It's not the best, but I had fun making it. ****

Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC****

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The lyrics and the dialouge used in this chapter belong to Abdrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher.

Summary:_ When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

_ Chapter Ten: Foundations of Stone_

It was the premiere night for _Don Juan Triumphant_. The firemen and gendarmes were frankly stunned to be instructed by a woman. Isabel was wearing her "monster-hunting" outfit complete with a grey-green Edain style cloak underneath a black leather duster. To top it all off, she wore a leather cowboy hat that her father had given her and she was armed to the hilt. Gwydion was similarly dressed and carrying a heavy crossbow, invented by Isobel's "Uncle" Carl.

"Do you understand your instructions?" Isobel asked, pacing like a hunting cat. The head soldier nodded. "When we hear the whistle, we immediately secure the doors and double check to make sure no one can get in or out." He recited dutifully. "Good." Gwydion said, coming to stand next to Isobel. The audience came in slowly, apprehensively. What would happen, at this Phantom's Opera?

As Isobel watched them come in, she wondered for a moment if she was doing the right thing. _'What other choice do we have? Perhaps...perhaps if I take him personally into custody, I can persuade the Council of Elders and the Vatican to lighten his sentence. Perhaps...' _Isobel stared into space as Raoul gave the order to lock the doors. The audience jumped, spooked by the noise.

"Will you have a clear view from Box Five?" Raoul asked the two Hunters in a low voice. Gwydion's eyes blazed like a winter storm. "We can shoot to kill. Make no mistake about that." He said quietly. From his spot in the rafters, Erik snickered coldly. He'd been watching the Vicomte and the managers. It was darkly amusing to him that they had hired Gabriel Van Helsing's own daughter to hunt him down. As a child, Javert had terrified him into thinking that Van Helsing would kill him for being a cruel monster. An idea formed in his mind, and Erik grinned savagely. Using his mastery of ventriloquism, he shouted "I'm here: the Phantom of the Opera!" and smirked at their bewilderment.

The crowd grew spooked, and the soldiers started to run towards the direction of the voice. "I'm here: the Phantom of the Opera!" Erik called out again, this time directing his voice towards the right side. Now making it seem as if he was sitting in Box Five, he whispered into Isobel Van Helsing's ear "I'm here: the Phantom of the Opera!". The girl's cat-green eyes glittered with the promise of a fight, which made Erik smile in a twisted manner.

"Hold your fire! I don't want anyone getting hurt!" Raoul growled angrily at a trigger happy young soldier. "But..but!" he sputtered in indignation. "For once, the young Vicomte is right! So go ahead, seal my fate tonight! I hate to have to cut the fun short but the joke is wearing thin...let my opera begin!" Erik shouted and quietly dropped down to wait for the opportune moment to make his "debut."

Reyer grimaced as he began the overture. The audience winced and frowned, not liking the beginning so far. The curtain rose, and a group of gypsies with Carlotta at the lead began to sing.  
_  
Here the sire may serve the dam,  
Here the master takes his meat  
Here the sacrificial lamb utters one despairing bleat!  
Poor young maiden!  
For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets,  
You will have to pay the bill-tangled in the winding sheets!  
Serve the meal and serve the maid!  
Serve the master so that when tables, plans and maids are laid  
Don Juan triumphs once again!_

Carlotta tried to overpower the other members of the chorus, as she felt it was an embarrassment for the reigning diva to have such a small part. One of the other cast members not-so-gently shoved her, and she shoved him back, giving a wide fake smile at the audience.

Meg Giry came out, dressed as a gypsy dancer in a skirt of black and red with a white peasant blouse. She executed a pirouette in front of Piangi in his Don Juan costume. He threw a bag of coins at her lazily and she caught it with expert hands before dancing saucily offstage.

"Passarino, my faithful friend! Recite the plan again so I know you understand my instructions fully!" Piangi bellowed, his face painted in garish makeup. "Your young guest believes I'm you-that I am the master and you the mysterious man!" Passarino recited dutifully, laughing a little.  
"When you met, you wore my cloak and she could not have seen your face. So now she believes she dines with me in her master's borrowed place! Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what in truth is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow with the wine..."Piangi gave a loud chuckle.

"You will come home-I'll use your voice and slam the door like crack of doom..." Passarino added. "I shall cry 'Come hide with me! Where, oh where? Of course, my room!" Piangi finished.

"Poor thing hasn't got a chance..."the other man mused. Piangi handed him his affects. "Here's my hat, my cloak and sword. Conquest is assured if I do not forget myself and laugh!" he said. With that, he turned and disappeared into the curtain, only to meet his fate at the Punjab lasso.

Christine glanced up as Isobel, Gwydion and Raoul sitting in Box Five. Raoul gave her a small nod of encouragement and Isobel pointed to her dagger and sword belted at her side, to reassure her that she would be safe onstage. So the young soprano took a deep breath and gracefully walked on. "No thoughts within her head but thoughts of joy! No dreams within her head but dreams of love!" she sang, trying to relax.

"Master?" Passarino called on cue. "Passarino, go away! For the trap is set and waits for it's prey!" Erik sang, covering his face with his long cloak. His heart was pounding, but he ignored it and went on ruthlessly with his scheme.

_  
You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge  
In pursuit of that wish, which 'till now has been silent...silent  
I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge  
In your mind you've already succumbed to me,  
Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me  
Now you are here with me, no second thoughts,_

You've decided...decided...

Erik sang his lines, letting his voice ring with a dark power and majesty. _'Listen to your dark angel Christine. Feel the music of the night!'_ he thought, slowly walking towards her like a panther in the jungle. Isobel stiffened, her entire body ready for a fight. Raoul looked at Isobel, and back at the Phantom. It struck him in that moment at how similar in movement Erik and Isobel were. Van Helsing's daughter moved like a tigress due to her training as a hunter and the Phantom like a black panther from years of experience in living among the shadows. Raoul was unnerved by that similarity and he surpressed a shudder.

__

Past the point of no return, no backward glances  
Our games of make-believe are at an end  
Past all thought of if or when, no use resisting  
Abandon thought and let the dream descend!  
What raging fire shall flood the soul?  
What rich desire unlocks its door?  
What sweet seduction lies before us?  
Past the point of no return, the final threshold  
What warm unspoken secrets will we learn

Beyond the point of no return....

Erik now lunged and grabbed Christine around the waist, gently caressing her throat. Her eyes involuntarily closed, basking in the black heat of his song. He then let her go, barely touching her arm. Christine was brought back to herself again, noticing that Isobel and Gwydion were ready to kill at a moment's notice. Her heart beat wildly-no matter what he had done, he was her dark Angel and she had to save him somehow. Closing her eyes again, she took a deep breath and subtly signaled to her friends to not shoot.__

You have brought me to the moment where words run dry,  
To the moment where speech disappears into silence...silence  
I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why  
In my mind I've already imagined our bodies entwining,  
Denfenseless and silent, now I am here with you  
No second thoughts, I've decided...decided...  
Past the point of no return  
No going back now, our passion play has now, at last, begun  
Past all thought of right or wrong, one final question:  
How long should we two wait, before we're one?  
When will the blood begin to race?  
The sleeping bud burst into bloom?

When will the flames at last consume us?

Erik looked up and locked eyes with Isobel Van Helsing. Blue-green met emerald-green and for one long moment, it felt as if their souls melded into one._ 'Oh Eru, oh Elbereth, he's not evil! He's the man from my dream...oh Star Queen, what do I do now?'_ Isobel thought in utter and complete shock. She had felt his pain, his sadness and his desperation as surely as if had been her own feelings.

For Erik, he had felt all of the hunter's rage and anger disappear as their eyes locked. It had been replaced by a sort of understanding, and once more he mentally heard that ghostly whisper of "_Tinúviel_."

"Isobel, shoot him now!" Raoul hissed angrily. Slowly she turned around to face him, eyes glittering in a pale face. "I can't..."she whispered. "Why not?" Gwydion said curiously, noting the odd look on her face. "Because he is not evil!" Isobel snapped, then seeing Raoul's face sighed and explained her stance. "My family's life, our job, our curse, if you will is to vanquish evil. We can sense evil. This man, this Erik is not evil. He may have performed evil acts due to what society has put him through, evil may have left it's mark on him in the form of madness, but evil does not rule him. Therefore, I cannot kill him." Isobel said through gritted teeth.

"You may not be able to kill him, but the gendarmes can!" Raoul tried to motion towards the head soldier but the Hunters blocked him. "Leave it! We can handle it!" Gwydion snarled, drawing himself up to his full height. The Vicomte sighed, annoyed and sat down.

Christine started to climb the stairs that connected to the bridge, seemingly trying to enchant Erik with her angelic voice. He followed her, looking as if he didn't believe it was real. They sang together, their voices melding into a superhuman sound.

__

Past the point of no return, the final threshold,  
The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn

We've passed the point of no return

They slowly walked towards one another, unconsciously keeping the crowd at the edge of their seats. Erik and Christine stood face to face for one long moment before holding the other's waist. They clung to one another and the Phantom twirled Christine, caressing her with a feather-light touch. The audience and stage members took a collective intake of breath as he gently turned her around to face him. Isobel stood up slowly, suddenly reminded of the Evenstar's sacrifice to be with the Elessar. _'I choose a mortal life...I would rather share one lifetime with you then face all the ages of this world alone...'_ resounded through the Dúnadan's mind.__

Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Lead me, save me from my solitude  
Say you want me with you, here beside you  
Anywhere you go, let me go too

Christine, that's all I ask of...

Erik never got to finish his song, as in that moment Christine ripped his mask away, leaving his hideous face bared to all the world. He looked around, a humiliation deeper then anything he'd ever known before rising up in him as he heard the screams. Oddly though, Van Helsing's daughter had a look of deep sadness, replacing the fiery rage he'd seen earlier.

Then Erik's own rage got the better of him and he unleashed his fury. Grabbing a dagger hidden in his jacket pocket, he cut the tasseled rope that had been attached to a mechanism designed to bring the chandelier down. Erik grinned darkly as he heard the terrified screams. He grabbed Christine and together they plummeted from the balcony into the trapdoor below the fake fire.

Isobel and Gwydion's instincts kicked in and they screamed "Run!" and grabbed Raoul, dashing back down the stairs towards the backstage area. The chandelier crashed into the stage and chaos reigned. Carlotta gave an unearthly wail of pain when she saw the body of Ubaldo Piangi with a punjab lasso around his neck.

In the frenzy to escape, the two Hunters lost Raoul. "Go! This way!" Isobel said calmly, trying to make sure no one got trampled on. Gwydion noticed a crowd forming, lead by Meg Giry. "Track down this murderer! He must be found! Track him down! He must be found, he must be found!" the mob shouted, lighting torches. "Go, _Aranel_. Find your friends, and try to save this man of darkness. I will meet you in the small alleyway by the baker's, only a few blocks away. I will have Shadowfax and Muirgen saddled and ready. Leave the saving of the people to me, Idril. Elbereth go with you." Gwydion pushed her gently towards the crowd. Isobel nodded her thanks before confronting Meg Giry.

"Miss Giry, where is your mother?" she asked, eyes flashing with worry for her friends. "She lead Monsieur le Vicomte down into the cellars to try to save Christine." The little ballerina said, trying to hold back the mob. "Do you know of any other way to get down there? It is a matter of life and death!" Isobel was trying not to give into the frantic haste that would be a danger to her in this mission. "The mirror, in Christine's dressing room. Slide it back, and it will lead you to the Phantom's lair. Will you get Christine and Raoul back? And not harm Erik?" Meg looked up, worry evident in her wide blue eyes.

"I will do everything I can, little one. You have my word on that. Just delay the mob as long as you can!"Isobel reassured her. "Then good luck, Lady Van Helsing." Meg whispered as the older woman ran for the dressing rooms. "No!" she cried, turning to the mob and throwing her hands out. "Let the Lady Van Helsing do her duty...she can save them!" Meg implored. They did not consent, as their rage was too great. Silently, the blonde ballerina prayed that Isobel could save the three people down below in that dark maze as she tentatively led the mob down through another passage, hoping the Lady was already there.


	11. Hope and Memory

Author's Note:__Sorry for the short chapter everyone. I had a bit of a block and the excitement for "Half-Blood Prince" kinda took over. Still in shock over the events of HPB by the way...Snape reminds me a little of Erik, but maybe that's just me, haha.

By the way, for those who are not elvishly inclined, Elessar is one of Aragorn's many names. It means "Elfstone". Estel was also another of his many names, as Gilraen and Elrond decided to hide the truth about his parentage until he was old enough to understand. Estel means "hope".

Also, the pledge (of sorts) that Aragorn gave to Frodo at the Council in the movie is the basis for Isobel's vow to Erik. It's the highest pledge a Dúnadan can give to another person, and they can never_ go back on it._

Anyway, enjoy the chapter everyone and don't be shy in leaving constructive criticism. Next chapter we'll start down the path of Erik learning more about Isobel's Dúnedain heritage...moo ha ha! 

**Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC**

Disclaimer:_ I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The lyrics and the dialouge used in this chapter belong to Abdrew Lloyd Webber and Joel Schumacher._

**Summary:When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?**

_Chapter 11: Hope and Memory_

Isobel ran through smoke and with the flames in constant pursuit at her heels. Dimly, she realized this was Christine's dressing room and broke in. Wasting no time, the Ranger pulled back the mirror and became part of the darkness. It was pitch black, and she wished she'd thought of bringing a torch. _'Not like the place will need it in a few hours...'_ Isobel thought darkly as she came upon the lake.

For one long moment, Isobel stood staring at the water. It seemed as if she could hear an angel's voice mingling with the soothing sound of the waves. _'Estel...Elessar's child...bring hope..._' a ghostly voice seemed to whisper in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she patted the tojo blades that were hidden in the duster before plunging into the icy depths.

Isobel didn't know how long she walked through the water, dodging the odd embers here and there. She noticed a small torch and peered into the everlasting night. "Raoul? Christine?" Isobel exclaimed with relief, climbing onto the gondola. "Oh God, he let us go! Raoul, I must go back and give him the ring. My friend, come with me." Christine said, and Isobel noticed she sounded more mature and sure of herself._ 'What in Eru's name had happened?'_ the Hunter thought as Raoul frowned but didn't press the issue.

"Isobel...promise me you will save him. Promise me, on our friendship that you won't harm him! Swear it!" Christine turned suddenly, looking her childhood friend straight in the eye._ 'Estel, estel, estel...' _an inner voice chanted, growing louder every second. "I promise you, I will not hurt him." She reassured the younger woman. It seemed to satisfy the soprano, and the two women made their way into the Phantom's lair.

Erik was sitting in front of the Persian monkey music box, staring off into space. "Masquerade, paper faces on parade...masquerade. Hide your face so the world will never find you..." he sang softly, then looked up, startled by the sudden movement. It was Christine, looking radiant as the Day itself. Behind her was the Lady Van Helsing, half in darkness, half in light, like the Twilight.

The soprano gave the wedding ring back to Erik, eyes sorrowful. "Go with Isobel, Erik. She will protect you, she has sworn it to me." Christine whispered and led Isobel forward. Erik ignored her, looking at the younger woman's retreating back as she returned to Raoul, waiting with the gondola.  
"Christine, I love you! I love you, I love you!" he whispered softly and wiping tears away.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Say the word and I will follow you...share each day with me, each night, each morning..." the young couple sang as they moved off into the distance, but Christine looked back, silently urging Erik to follow the young Van Helsing.

"You alone can make my song take flight...it's over now, the music of the night!" Erik sang, desperately hoping Christine would turn back to him, but she was gone. Numbly, he turned to the Lady Van Helsing. "Take me wherever, kill me if you must. I no longer care what happens to this body." Erik sighed and Isobel felt an immense swell of pity and sadness.

Taking out _Hadhfang_, the Sword of the Evenstar, she knelt on one knee with the sword before her. "If I can protect you either by my life or death, I shall. You have my sword and my word that I shall not kill you." Isobel gave the highest pledge known to her people. It seemed to bring the broken man out of his haze, and Erik almost felt touched.

Grabbing an extra white mask from a statue and a warm black cloak, Erik began smashing the mirrors, ignoring the Hunter's perplexed look. "Run towards the bakery, my friend will be waiting with two horses!" Isobel called back, gracefully bounding into the secret passage revealed by the mirror.  
"I have a horse, named César. He's in a stable I built for him at the end of the Rue Scribe entrance." The Phantom said slowly, following the Hunter.

"Hurry then, I hear the mob coming!" Isobel said frantically, picking up her pace and grabbing her tojo blades in case the mob caught up with them and they needed to fight their way to freedom. The sight of the odd weapon made Erik blink. He'd never seen such a weapon before. It was then he realized that he wasn't wearing his mask and suddenly he felt fear surge through him. The brunette saw him staring and gave an encouraging smile. "Don't worry, I'm not going to use it on you. This is incase any of the mob finds us and we need to fight our way out of here." Isobel said reassuringly, as if she was trying to calm a skittish horse.

They were near to the end of the Rue Scribe passage when Erik whistled, long and low. "What are you do-"Isobel began, then stopped when she saw a black stallion cantering towards them. "Here, put this on." Isobel took off her cowboy hat and gave it to him as he shrugged into his black cloak. In a moment of sadness, Erik looked back and closed his eyes.

He was surprised when the Hunter put a gentle hand on his shoulder. She nodded at him, and he gave swung himself onto César and gave a helping hand to Isobel. Erik swallowed hard as the green-eyed woman wrapped her arms firmly around his waist and rested her head gently on his shoulder.  
"Go, César!" Erik said softly and the horse seemed to sense his riders need for haste. Three black shadows blended in with the night as they headed for the alley near the bakery. A tall figure on horseback appeared out of the gloom, and Isobel nearly fainted with relief. "Gwydion!" she said as he approached, holding Shadowfax's reigns. Erik stiffened, ready to flee.

With an inborn grace, Isobel lightly jumped from the black stallion's back onto her own horse. "Gwydion, I need you to inform Eleanor and Vincent of my departure. Then meet us at the Potter's Inn in three days." She said, authority evident in her voice. He nodded, and the Ranger wheeled Shadowfax around to stand next to Erik.As if obeying some unspoken thought, the Dúnadan and the Phantom left in a flying gallop. Erik wasn't sure where this strange woman was leading him, and once again he was reminded of her childhood nickname-"Little Elf."

"Where are we going?" he asked, slowing the black horse. "Eventually, to England and the Byington estate. France isn't safe, and you need a place to stay while I persuade the Holy Order to drop the charges against you." she replied, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "There's an inn run by the Order a few miles outside of Paris. I'm warning you though-We'll have to ride all night in order to get there by dawn." Isobel added.

Erik shrugged, not caring. "Ride on." he said dully, realizing that every step they took brought him away from Christine. He had let her go, but still..to leave Paris and the Opera House? It was the only true home he had ever known, and he was at the mercy of this unknown woman.

Isobel's eyes softened as she looked at him. "Come, as we ride I will tell you a legend my mother told me. It has been passed down from generation to generation in my family. It is the tale of a beautiful Elf-Queen named Evenstar who fell in love with a mortal man who was a hidden King. His name was Elessar, called Estel, meaning Elfstone and Hope in the beautiful elven language..." she said and began her tale.

The miles faded into nothingness as Erik found himself living inside the story. It was a tragic tale at the end-the Queen Evenstar gave up her immortality just to be with her mortal lover, but somehow, it held hope that love would prevail. He understood why Christine had spoken so fondly of her childhood friend's stories-the woman was a born storyteller and had a way of making it seem as if the characters had actually lived.

The stars wheeled overhead and the moon began to set, signaling a new dawn. In the dim gloom of the twilight, they came upon Potter's Inn and quickly, furtively, Isobel explained the situation to the Order members. Their horses were taken to the stables to be looked after, and they went gratefully to their rooms, thankful for the chance to rest. Both would need their strength to fight their way through a future that could quickly turn against them. 


	12. Elessar's Child

**Author's Note:** _I'm back! In this chapter, we get our first glimpse of Erik/Idril goodness. I hope Erik isn't TOO OOC. I'm trying to draw parallel's between Giovanni (from Kay's Book) and Idril/Isobel. Both can see past the dark deeds he's performed, as well as the deformity, to see the hope inside. As a descendent of Aragorn (once called Estel), Idril is born of hope, in a way. _

Anyway, enough of my rambling on the symbolism in the story. Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated, flames are not. Feed the Muses!

**Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC **

Disclaimer:_ I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The quote "My life, my job, my curse is to sense evil..etc" belongs to Stephen Somers and is used in the Van Helsing movies and novelizations._

Summary:_When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

_Chapter Twelve:Elessar's Child_

It was dawn, and yet Isobel still paced silently as a cat. '_How on Earth do I explain this to the Holy Order? Oh yes, well, you see the Phantom isn't a ghost, he's a man. A man who dropped a chandelier on a dozen or more Parisians. Why? Oh, because he was born deformed and there was a mob after him. Yes, that would go over real well.'_ She growled to herself. As always, in times of great stress, Isobel fiddled with her elven necklace.  
Her elven necklace. Isobel slowly took it off and stared at it as if she'd never seen it before. "The Rangers. But that would open up another can of worms..." her voice trailed off. Until Isobel was crowned the next Lady of the Edain, she had to work for both the Rangers and the Holy Order in order to preserve the alliance that had been forged by her parents and their marriage.

Yet her people could hide Erik more efficiently then the Holy Order ever could. Also, who know how the Cardinal would react-and more importantly, the Pope himself? To them, Erik would be a murderer and he would be jailed if he did not bow his head to a lengthy penance. An instinct born of a lifetime of hunting evil warned her that Erik would never agree to the penance, judging from what his childhood had been like.

But perhaps if he spoke to the Council of Elders, if she pleaded his case for him...they could reach a compromise with the Holy Order. If Isobel could get Erik to speak to her father and he was their representative...they would have a fighting chance. Gabriel Van Helsing _was_, after all, a Maia and had the gift of looking into people's souls and seeing if they were good or evil. If they would not listen to his daughter, they would listen to him.

_'It's settled then. To the Council of Elders we go. I just don't know how I'm going to explain to Erik about this...he would never, ever believe the truth. Not that I can blame him, really,'_ she thought, fiddling with her long hair. With a sigh, Isobel made to turn to go into her bedroom when she heard someone yell. It was Erik.

Quick as a cat, she ran into his room and quietly entered the bedroom. He was in the throes of a terrible nightmare and Isobel felt her heart contract with pity for him. "Erik, Erik, wake up!" Isobel said and gently shook him to wake him up.

Blue-green eyes met her own and he blinked once, twice. Then Erik blushed, hating himself for having this unknown woman seeing him with his guard down. Sensing this, Isobel decided to try to calm him down. "I know how you feel, believe me. Nightmares are not fun." She said, her gaze turning dark. He blinked again, remembering what her true occupation was. "What do you dream of?" he asked, his natural curiosity taking over.

The young Hunter gave an elegant shrug. "Failed missions, mostly. To the Holy Order, the creatures we hunt are merely monsters, and we must either vanquish them or try to help them regain their lost humanity. Yet sometimes I have no choice but to kill them. At the end, they regain human form and I am left with the knowledge that I killed a fellow human being." She said quietly.

The woman's gaze turned inward, lost in memories. Erik could see that her job bothered her. "I'm sorry." He said weakly, at a loss for words. Isobel gave a small smile and shrugged, tossing her hair. "It's okay. Well, it seems as if we won't be getting any sleep so how about I make tea? It will calm both of us." Isobel suggested.

"Very well." The man shrugged, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders. Together they walked side by side into the living area and Isobel began to make chamomile tea. When it was done, she handed a cup to Erik, who gratefully accepted it. "Thank you" he mumbled. Isobel smiled at him before tentatively sitting down next to him.

"This is going to sound odd, and I don't mean to be forward, but I know that we know next to nothing about one another. If you don't want to talk about your past, that's fine, I swear to you I will not pry. You can ask me any question you'd like and I'll answer truthfully. Think of it as like a 'getting to know you' game of some sort." Isobel suggested tentatively, not knowing how the man sitting next to her would react.

Gathering up his courage, Erik looked her straight in the eye. "Since I was a child, everyone hated and feared my face. They said I was a 'hell-spawned brat' and I wasn't **_human_**. How can you look at me with no revulsion whatsoever?" he asked, fearing the answer. Isobel blinked, thinking it over.

"I suppose it's because of my profession. Not to sound arrogant, but I have dealt with vampires, werewolves, mad scientists...you get the idea. A facial deformity is nothing compared to what evil stalks in the night, and only ignorant fools are frightened." She responded, angry at the ignorance which had warped a child's soul by claiming he was hell-sent.

"Vampires and werewolves are real?" he exclaimed incredulously. Isobel nodded. "Of course. Look at all these scars on my arms." She said and carefully lowered the worn-in robe she wore. On her upper arms and shoulders were pale white scars criss-crossing to meet on her shoulder blades. "Some are from a particularly nasty fight with a werewolf and the others are from a shape-shifting sorceress I had to destroy. She wanted to take over the Holy Order and that would have been catastrophic if she succeeded. Needless to say, the sorceress left a few.. tokens of her hate on my skin. These are the nastiest scars I have so far though." The female Hunter gave a smile that was more of an unconscious catlike bearing of teeth.

That smile brought another question to Erik. "If we had dueled on the night of the Bal Masque, you would have killed me, no? What made you change your mind?" he asked, wondering who the true Lady Van Helsing was-the catlike warrior Queen, the aloof noblewoman or the ethereal maiden.

"In all honesty, yes, I would have. My first duty was to protect my friends-loyalty and friendship are one of the most important things in one's life. Back then, you were a threat to them, and I would do anything to save them. I changed my mind because my life, my job, my **_curse_**, if you will, is to vanquish evil. Like my parents before me, I can somehow sense evil. You may have done evil acts, evil may have left it's mark on you, but you are not ruled by it. Therefore, I cannot kill you. There is still_ hope_." Isobel responded, looking straight at him.

"But I am an Angel in Hell...a **monster**." Erik mumbled, wondering how this odd woman could place so much faith in him when she didn't even know him. Isobel gently put her hand on his shoulder once more. "You are no monster. A _true_ monster would had never let Christine and Raoul go." She said softly. He flinched violently at the mention of his Angel's name but the unwavering faith of the Lady Van Helsing reminded him sharply of Giovanni's trust in him.

Without consciously realizing it, Isobel had began to gently knead his shoulder to comfort him. It felt catlike, and Erik let himself relax a tiny bit. He was quiet for a long time, lost in dark memories. By the time he came out of his reverie, Erik noticed that Isobel had fallen asleep, her head on his shoulder.

Erik's heart tore itself into two once more._ 'Christine...Christine! My Muse, my Angel...the music is dead without you!' _he thought, trying hard not to break out in wild sobs. Looking down at the sleeping woman, he saw that she must have been utterly exhausted. _'You are Christine's friend. Out of respect for her, I will go with you but I will flee if betrayed.'_ Erik said mentally.

With a shaking breath, he gently picked up the sleeping woman and brought her back to her own room. After covering her with a blanket, Erik turned as silently as any cat and went back to his own room. It wasn't until dawn's first light that he fell into an exhausted and dreamless sleep, not caring what happened to him in the future.


	13. Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

_Author's note:Chapter Thirteen is up and running! Yay! next chapter we'll have the re-appearance of Gwydion and more running around in the woods, ducking the authorities. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Guistar Strummer/YellinYee from the BJMB and for putting up with my ramblings about all my different fic ideas and giving me inspiration. Also, a big hug and Phantom cookies for everyone who has reviewed so far._

I'm a bit stuck on something-I'm not sure where in England to have the Byington estate, so if someone wants to recommend a county, I'll dedicate a chapter to them as well as basing one of my minor characters on them and you'll get a Phantom clone too!

As always, constructive criticism is always_ appreciated and my Muses thank everyone for the reviews!_

**Elvish translations:** **Hadhafang**-the sword of Arwen. It's the sword Liv Tyler uses when she rescues Frodo at the ford.  
**Aran**- Quenya for King. It is the title for the Lord of the Rangers who, in this case, happens to be Gabriel Van Helsing.

**Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC**

Disclaimer:_ I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The quote "All that is gold does not glitter..., etc." belongs to JRR Tolkien and is used in the LoTR novels and the RoTK movie._

Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?__

Chapter Thirteen: Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

"_All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king..._" Isobel murmured to herself. It was an old rhyme of the Edain, made up by the Halfling Bilbo Baggins. It spoke of Aragorn Elessar, and his destiny to defeat the Dark Lord Sauron.

"Another one of your legends?" a voice from behind her asked. She whirled around, startled. Erik was standing before her, raising one eyebrow. Isobel smiled weakly. "Yes...one that my grandfather used to recite to me to help me fall asleep. He, and eventually my mother, passed down legends that had been in my family for ages through bedtime stories." she explained. Erik nodded in understanding, feeling a pang of envy._ 'They must have been a close-knit family..old legends passed down...I wonder...'_ he mused darkly.

"Oh, here are some clothes and a wig for you. I asked the innkeeper to procure us some supplies and clothes. Rest assured that he swore to eternal secrecy. No Order member will disobey Van Helsing's daughter." Isobel grinned mischievously, eyes glimmering. Erik raised his eyebrow at her, somewhat amused. "Thank you." he said quietly, putting the black wig on.

"So what is our course of action?" Erik asked, wanting to change the subject. "Gwydion Delven-you saw him in his alias as Marcus, my 'fiancee'-will meet us here in a day or so. We will then go on to England, to my family estate. Once there, I will plead your case in front of all the members of the Holy Order." Isobel responded, fidgeting with her necklace. Erik had noticed that she never took it off, not even when she was sleeping. It was made of silver with a beautiful emerald stone in the middle. The silver knotwork of leaves, flowers and finally a giant star surrounding the gemstone reminded him of Celtic knotwork, but there was a different flavor to it.

"Just how exactly are you going to_ 'plead your case'_?" he asked curiously, sensing she was hiding something. Isobel took a deep breath. "There are several other secret societies dedicated to fighting evil. Most are small, and not very widespread, save for one. The Eriador Rangers are the largest society, possibly equal or more then the Knights of the Holy Order. They are our allies, thanks to the marriage of their Lady to one of our best warriors. They are the most secretive of all monster hunting societies." she said slowly.

"If they are so secretive, how on Earth do you know them?" Erik challenged. Isobel gave a mysterious smile. "Well, first of all, we monster hunters often run into one another on missions. Second of all, we are allies now, thanks to that marriage of the Lady of the Rangers and the_ Aran_. Third of all, my grandfather is a Ranger." she grinned at Erik's astonished face. "Y-your grandfather!" he sputtered. "Of course." she smiled innocently, enjoying the Phantom's astonishment. He narrowed his eyes at her, not trusting that catlike air. While Erik felt that Isobel would not betray a vow or physically hurt him, he felt uncomfortable with the mischievous aspect of the Hunter's personality.

Isobel sensed his change of mood and continued. "Anyway, since my Grandfather..er...knows some rather influential Rangers, I figure between my father and the Council of the Rangers, we can reach a compromise with the Holy Order about you. I don't think they would lightly ignore your..uh..._stint_..as the Opera Ghost and it's highly likely could turn you over to the French authorities." she explained.

"But I thought you were the daughter of **_Gabriel Van Helsing_**." Erik said sarcastically, putting emphasis on her father's name. Isobel stiffened slightly, trying to keep her temper down. "I am Gabriel Van Helsing's daughter, not a goddess. I am only human, the same as you are. I can only promise to try my best, and nothing else." she said quietly, her thoughts turning inward. In that moment, Erik remembered his dreams of the woman dancing under the stars to a song in an unfamiliar language._ 'The elusive dream-maiden and this catlike Hunter are connected in some way.' _he realized, the knowledge hitting him like a blow to the stomach.

They had breakfast, and soon after Erik retired to his room to brood. "If things had been different...the upcoming trip would have been my honeymoon with my Angel." he whispered out loud, overcome with sudden despair. Erik know that after the kiss, Christine would have willingly stayed with him, but how could he condemn an Angel to live in the darkness? As much as it annoyed him, Erik knew that the insolent Vicomte loved Christine just as much as he did and would take good care of her. After all, for a Swedish peasant, becoming a Vicomtess would be like a fairy tale come true. 

_'In real life, the Beast never gets the Beauty. The Fairy Princess marries her Prince Charming and they live in the Light eternal, shunning the forever darkness that cages the Beast. Some chains cannot be broken.'_ One part of his mind said. Thus began his further wandering into sorrow, gradually loosing hope of ever living a semi-normal life.

Yet even in his mental darkness, a part of the rhyme that Isobel had recited came back to haunt him. _"From the ashes a fire shall be broken..a light from the shadows shall spring..."_ Erik whispered again. A nagging feeling told him to find out what exactly that old legend spoke of. A preternatural instinct told him that it could be an important key in finding out who-or what-the woman of the starlight that danced in the meadow was.

Meanwhile, Isobel was feeling restless. Being cooped up all day in a room wasn't her idea of fun. Theoretically, she **could** go out, but she didn't want to leave Erik alone. So she grabbed _Hadhfang_ and went through some basic sword play movements. Isobel let go of conscious thought, let go of the boredom, the frustration and the fear. She was one with her blade and that was all that mattered.

It seemed like hours had gone by when Erik heard the sounds of movement coming from Isobel's room and he decided to investigate. He was surprised to see Isobel, dressed once more in her "hunting" outfit, fencing an imaginary opponent.

It was like an elegant dance and Erik watched curiously. The sword was of an unusual design, with a gold handle and intricate runes and leaves carved into the blade. Duck, parry, thrust, duck. No longer a woman, but a whirlwind of terrifying destruction. Isobel was so absorbed in her mock fight that she didn't realize that Erik was there until he cleared his throat.  
She turned, blushing furiously. "Oh...err...I...uh...I was, you know, just practicing. I didn't know anyone was there." Isobel began to fiddle with her necklace, embarrassed that she hadn't heard Erik come in. "I can see that." he said coolly. "Would you like to learn?" Isobel offered, trying to break the silence.

Once more, Isobel kept surprising Erik. "You would help the _Opera Ghost _better himself in **swordplay**?" he asked incredulously. She shrugged. "I trust you would use the knowledge wisely." was her simple response. Once more, Giovanni's memory surfaced and his eyes grew dark. Luciana's screams echoed again and again, reliving the fall he'd caused.

"Erik. Erik!" Isobel said loudly, bringing him back to the present. Her eyes searched his curiously before repeating her request. "So, do you want to learn or not?" she asked once more. He blinked once, twice. "Very well." Erik sighed and accepted the sword. It was a little old and slightly dusty from being hidden by the inn owners in a trunk for many years, but it was still a worthy weapon.

"Ok, first of all, let's have a sparring match. It's obviously not serious and it will be a way for me to figure out what we'll need to work on." she suggested. They faced off and bowed. The room was then filled with the clashing of metal and darting footwork of the two.

"Truce?" Isobel asked after about thirty minutes. Both of them were sweating, not expecting the other to be so good. Erik gave a small half-smile. "Truce." he said. "Anyway, now that I've seen your form, we can start with this move..." Isobel began to explain how to properly execute it, and fixed his posture and footwork.

They spent all afternoon like that, and Erik was surprised when he realized it was almost night. "I'd better go down and see if Madame Bontecou has supper ready. Our cover is that you are a invalid American man of wealth named Erik Kavanagh, injured in the War Between the States and I am the nurse assigned to take care of you. Gwydion will be posing as your cousin, newly come from Britain. All Monsieur and Madame Bontecou know is that I am part of the Order and you are with me, therefore, they will ask no questions." Isobel explained. "Erik Kavanagh..." he muttered, testing it out. Erik's true surname was obscure, buried deep in horrible memories that he didn't want to sift through.

"Wait...I'm an _invalid_ now?" he exclaimed. Isobel gave a small laugh at his outraged expression. "I'm sorry, it was the only plan I felt that would be believable. You know the authorities will be out looking for you, especially if they don't find any evidence of your death." she explained. Erik made a face, but a grim mood took over.

"Thank you for the lessons." he mumbled and quickly retreated to the quiet of his room. The Ranger looked after him and sighed sadly before changing into the clothes Madame Bontecou had lent her. It was a simple lavender dress of the kind rural women wore. Brushing her hair back into a tight bun, she went downstairs. The elderly woman had already made supper for them. Thanking her, Isobel retreated back into the sanctuary upstairs.

"Erik? I have your dinner!" she said, knocking softly at his door. After a few long moments, he opened it. "Thanks." Erik replied gruffly. Isobel could tell he was in no mood to socialize, so she decided to leave him be. "If you're feeling up to it, the Bontecous have a few books that they have lent us. You're welcome to borrow a few of them and if you want, I can make tea for both of us." she ventured. Erik was taken aback. Isobel's kindness unnerved him because he wasn't used to it, and it reminded him of Giovanni. "I'll think about it." he muttered. She nodded and said goodnight, leaving him to his dark thoughts. 


	14. Children of the Wilderness

_Author's note: The dedication for this chapter is for Rose of the Opera/Noelle, for her help in picking Isobel's home county in Britain. Thanks for your suggestion, it really fits in with the LoTR aspect of this story. _

Barb/Morminator,Erik doesn't fully trust Isobel yet, so that's one of the reasons why. I explain more in this chapter, but I can't go in depth without giving away the plot. Just keep your eye on that Red Book...hehehe.

Jen Lennon,I'm glad you liked the crossover idea and feel I'm pulling it off so far. Don't worry, more Isobel/Erik interaction is coming up soon!

One other thing before I leave-college started, so I'll do my best to write and update in my free time.

**Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC **

Disclaimer:_ I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU. The quote "All that is gold does not glitter..., etc." belongs to JRR Tolkien and is used in the LoTR novels and the RoTK movie._

Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_  
_  
_Chapter Fourteen: Children of the Wilderness_

Summary: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC 

Isobel and Erik spent the next two days in fencing practice and reading. At night, Erik usually retreated to his room to brood, leaving the Hunter to her own thoughts. They were slowly getting to know one another, but he still didn't fully trust Isobel. With wisdom beyond her years, she in turn realized he needed more time to acclimate to her presence.

In the hours before the dawn, Gwydion arrived, dressed as a peasant farmer with a wagon full of crops. "Holy Order?" Monsieur Bontecou whispered in French. "Yes, I am here to meet Isobel Van Helsing and her charge." He responded. "Good sir, I will give you lodgings and your crop looks good. We will meet tomorrow and arrange to buy some, if you are willing." He said loudly in French, to deter any eavesdroppers. "Thank you monsieur. Here is the price for a few night's lodgings." Gwydion replied. Bontecou nodded, and showed him up to his room. It was across from Erik and Isobel's room.

Once alone, the Hunter knocked gently on Isobel's door. She opened it warily and then with a cry of happiness, hugged him tightly. "Gwydion! I thought you would _never_ get here! How was the trip?"Isobel exclaimed. Unknown to them, Erik had heard her shout, and went to investigate. Hidden by the shadows, he noticed that she was truly happy to have her friend back. Isobel was twenty-three, but looked a few years older. Now the stress of their flight from Paris disappeared, leaving a happy young woman in her place.

"Tiring. I had to run around the flat like a bloody maniac, trying to figure out what to take and what to ship over and getting fake aliases, passports and all. You're high maintenance, Isobel." Gwydion teased. She grinned cheekily at him, eyes glittering. "Come in, I'll make tea for you. God knows you must be exhausted." Isobel said and turned to face Erik. "You too." She added, smiling.

The three of them sat at the small table. Gwydion and Erik were eyeing one another, trying to ascertain the level of danger. Isobel sighed and started to pass out cups and small plates with biscuits. The silence was deafening, and it was only broken when the tea was done.

"Where in England is your family estate?" Erik asked softly. "In Sussex, England right outside of Lewes. It's a fairly big estate, and we have a guest house that you can stay in, until everything has worked out." She said. "Speaking of which, Mark Niall, Erik Kavanagh and Isolde Connor have tickets on the ship _The Dawn Noel_. The Captain and his wife Roslynn Noah, are part of another society that's allied with the Holy Order and will make sure we get safely to our destination." Gwydion interjected. "Good. We'll leave by noon tomorrow-Erik and I will leave together, and then you leave dressed as a farmer. We should all get some rest, as we've got a long day ahead of us." Isobel said briskly, leaving no room for arguments. Gwydion rolled his eyes and she laughed.

As Erik left, he noticed the young Hunter give Isobel a worn and battered book. In gold lettering on a red leather cover, it said simply _The Red Book_. Her eyes grew wide with happiness and she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Then Isobel immediately buried it in the bag that contained her change of clothes, apparently trying to hide it. _'The Red Book? How is it that I, who have read many books in the course of my lifetime, have never come across this one before? More importantly, why is she trying to hide it? What is it to her?' _he wondered, narrowing his eyes.

Once in his room, Erik began to pack what little he had and feeling tired, tried to get some sleep. He wouldn't sleep for very long, as Christine and the elusive Star-maid began to weave in and out of his dreams.

_"Holy Angel, in Heaven blessed, with thee my spirit longs to rest!" Christine sang, holding her arms out to Erik. Surprised, he tried to embrace her, but she shone with a golden light and turned towards the Sun. Standing there was the Vicomte De Changy, and together the young couple disappeared.  
_

_Erik let out a cry of fury, but a voice singing caught his attention and he had a strong impulse to follow it. Thefour maidenswere standing in a clearing, dancing in the moonlight._

_They were blurry, but he could see that one was slim with dark hair and wise eyes. Her pointed ears betrayed her elven heritage, and as she sang, nightingales perched on her shoulder. Next to her, a blonde elf woman with blue eyes that reminded him of the sea twirled merrily, seafoam at her silver feet. _

_The third elf-maid looked similar to the first, but with deep blue eyes that held wisdom and understanding. She wore a necklace that seemed woven from the stars and the Evening Star shone brightly above her. The fourth maiden was human, or so he guessed from the lack of pointed ears. She wore a gown of blue and silver and her face was the hardest to make out. Yet the one thing he did know-she held a copy of the book Isobel had. Turning, the ethereal women saw him and ran off, disappearing into the mists._

Erik woke up, his heart pounding. Clearly, his dreams were tied in with that mysterious book. He needed to get his hands on it, but how? Erik couldn't very well just go up to her and ask her for it-it was painfully obviously that she wanted to keep it hidden. Besides, he still didn't fully trust Isobel. Yes, she was kind to him and made a real effort to treat him like everyone else with her faith in him, but she was still a stranger. A _dangerous_ stranger who was the daughter of the most wanted man in Europe. He wasn't exactly going to accept her with open arms and pour his heart out to her.

Unknown to Erik, Isobel's reoccurring dream had come back in full-force. It was always the same-she was wandering a deep cavern in a dark forest. The cavern lead underground, and she was always drawn there by an unearthly voice. A man was waiting for her, leading herback intothe night sky. His features were blurred, but that voice...there was something so familiar about him, yet she couldn't put her finger on it.

"I am never going to get back to sleep!" Isobel huffed and brought out her copy of The Red Book. Flipping through the dog-eared chapters, she found her favorite part-the tale of Aragorn and Arwen. With a happy sigh, she lost herself in the world of her ancestors. Before Isobel knew it, she was ready to try to go back to sleep, so with a sigh, the candle flickered out and sleep claimed her.

The next afternoon, the Bontecous bid farewell to Isobel, Erik and Gwydion. Van Helsing's daughter and her charge rode off, followed by the grey-eyed hunter with the wagon.

The three of them were silent as they made their way on long-forgotten paths. It seemed that once safely amongst nature, Isobel seemed to change. She seemed to take strength from it, in a way. Gwydion, on the other hand, seemed to have a sort of laconic poise about him. He seemed like the type to go from reading a book to a raging warrior in a matter of minutes.

The day was long, with only a few stops. Isobel seemed to be the leader, but she deferred to Gwydion's uncanny knowledge of hidden roads. "Just as long as we don't get lost."she teased, grinning cheekily. "Odd...I thought you were the one with the bad sense of direction." Gwydion said dryly, with the faintest glimmer of a smile. Erik could that they were very close, which had helped them in their charade in Paris. They moved as one, each catching the other's thoughts effortlessly.

They made camp in a small clearing. Gwydion had found kindling, and Isobel had taken out some of the goods that the Bontecous had given them. They ate the meal in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The time had come for them to choose who would have the first watch, and so they drew lots. Erik had drawn first watch, and so made himself comfortable while the other two turned the wagon into makeshift sleeping quarters.

The fire burned and crackled, painting images in Erik's mind. The last time he had slept outdoors like this was when he had been captured by gypsies. He felt a rising swell of freedom...for the first time in ages, he was out under the open skies. It was both a thrilling and frightening prospect.

Erik turned his attention to the sleeping Hunters. Gwydion slept on his side, his back towards Isobel. The brunette woman, however, slept on her back, her hair fanning around her face. _'She seems younger when she sleeps'_ he mused. It reminded him painfully of when Christine had fell into a swoon, and Erik had placed her almost reverentially in the swan bed. With a great effort and a heaving sigh, Erik pushed that memory back and continued his guard-duty.

Three hours later, Gwydion woke up and took his place at the watch. He nodded, and Erik gratefully climbed into the wooden wagon. There were supplies in the middle, creating a barrier of sorts between himself and Isobel. With a quiet sigh, he gave himself over to sleep. The long day had taken it's toll on him and for the first time in three days, Erik slept without dreams.


	15. The SeaWanderers

_Author's note: Well, I'm back. Sorry for the wait, school got in the way. I'm glad everyone likes it so far. If you feel that Erik is acting OOC, let me know! I don't mind constructive criticism, so don't hesitate in telling me if you feel something's off!_

In this chapter, we have some Isobel/Erik bonding, as well as some Isobel/Gwydion/Erik bonding. Next chapter we'll see Erik finding out who the elven women are...moo ha ha!

**Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC**

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU.

Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of 's line? 

_Chapter Fifteen: The Sea-Wanderers_

The weeks past quickly, and Erik became accustomed to the vagabond life they were currently leading. He was learning swordplay from Isobel and even becoming slightly more comfortable around the two Hunters.

The idyll was about to come to an end, as they boarded the ship late at night. Their rooms were right next door to one another's-Erik's was in the middle, with Isobel's room on the left and Gwydion's on the right. There were not many passengers, so at night, Erik would wander restlessly about in the shadows, if he wished. But it took too much time to put on disguises and heavy coats, so Erik usually stayed in his room. Isobel usually stayed with him, sometimes playing cards with him. Other times she told him stories, weaving fantastical tales of elves and men, and of battles long gone. On the rare occasion that Gwydion joined them, the two Hunters playfully teased one another, and often debated issues with Erik.

The two were as different as night and day with their tempers. Isobel was fiery and stubborn, while Gwydion was more dry and quick-witted with retorts. Erik would likely never admit it, but their little verbal sparring matches were a great distraction. He had never really been given a chance to debate with other people in such a friendly manner, and it brought a new spark to his spirit.

On this particular night, Isobel and Erik were reading quietly. He had grown used to her presence, and he found Isobel oddly soothing. _'Ironic that a monster hunter could calm a monster.'_ Erik thought darkly to himself. He studied her for a long moment-she was wearing a deep blue dress, with her hair loose. Isobel was utterly absorbed in the book, a slight smile on her face.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Isobel looked up. "What? Do I have something on my face?" she asked curiously. Erik shook his head "no" and she narrowed her eyes slightly. Shrugging to herself, she turned back to her book. He smiled slightly and turned back to his own story.

"Do you like being at sea?" Isobel asked suddenly, breaking the silence. Erik blinked. "I am used to it, but I do not traveling so close to others." He responded. "It's unnerving, isn't it?" she said knowingly. He raised an eyebrow. It was positively uncanny how Isobel could seemingly read his thoughts and respond to them in kind.

"I'm not particularly fond of small enclosed spaces." Erik told her dryly. Isobel nodded. "I know exactly how you feel. I'd much rather be riding horseback through the fields at night..."her voice trailer off as her eyes became sad and distant. "Why do I get the feeling you were troublesome as a child? Always coming in with dirty clothes and shirking your chores to go out riding?" Erik said with a spark of mischief in his voice. "I wasn't that bad...I mean, I was allowed to learn horseback riding and fencing as a means of self-defense. My parents knew all too well what was out there, and it eased their mind to know their daughter could defend herself well enough to escape and get help. But yes, I will admit I much preferred horseback riding to learning how to be a proper lady." Isobel explained, laughing gently at the memories.

Then she snapped out of it, knowing Erik never had a chance to experience a happy family life. His eyes darkened momentarily, as if divining her thought, but then he chuckled at the image she painted in his mind. Erik could picture a younger Isobel, riding through the fields to escape from the dreary life of a noblewoman. The woman before him was born to be a free spirit, a wandering nomad. He wondered how Raoul, Christine, and Isobel had ever gotten along as children, as they had such different personalities. It amused Erik to imagine the fights between Isobel and Raoul that Christine had described to him.

"Erik? Forgive me for being so bold, but what happened to you as a child?" Isobel's quiet and hesitant voice broke through his daydreaming. He looked up, his green-blue eyes growing as cold as ice. "I had been taken in by gypsies...**captured**, really. I spent my_ 'formative years'_ confined to a cage and taunted because of my face. How do you **_think_** my childhood was?" Erik growled.

The Ranger's eyes softened and she surprised him by giving Erik a fierce hug. "I am**_ so_** sorry for all that you've been through." Isobel whispered softly. Her compassion shocked Erik, who had never been willingly hugged by anyone before. He found himself hugging her back, their cheeks touching. To the former Phantom, it felt like hugging a wolf. Wolves were loyal to their pack, but could strike in a moment if threatened. In that moment, Erik knew there was no going back. He had bared part of his soul to her, and he was starting to become-dare he say it-friends with the free-spirited Hunter. In short, Erik was growing to trust her.

Isobel, with her unusual compassion and sharp tongue, had made sure that Erik's mind was kept off of Christine and Raoul. If she had abandoned him now, Erik would feel doubly betrayed. In short, Erik was growing to trust her. Between Christine and Isobel, he realized that he still craved human company. The Phantom of the Opera was just a man, like any other man. He wanted a friends to trust, a steady, normal home, and a woman to love him despite his face. 

Isobel gently eased away from him, embarrassed at being so carried away. She had been trained to never wear her heart on her sleeve, as it would be a death wish for any Hunter to show emotion so openly. They gave awkward smiles at one another before hastily moving onto a different topic, the moment seemingly forgotten.

Gwydion came in, bringing dinner for the three of them. He noticed that the air between Isobel and Erik seemed more relaxed, more open. The grey-eyed Hunter had to hide a smile. _'Good.'_ Gwydion thought. He felt that they had similar personality traits, and were more alike then they knew.  
They had dinner, and the atmosphere was more amiable then usual. Erik seemed much more comfortable with them, as he participated in the conversation more often. While his guard was still up, it was obvious that he had at least grown used to their company.

The days flew by, and England drew closer. Isobel and Gwydion grew more restless, as if knowing they were so close to their native land made them want to run free as wolves do. It absorbed into Erik, and he too found himself longing for the wide open spaces of the countryside.

Finally, the ship docked in Newhaven, England. The sea air was invigorating, and Isobel's eyes lit up. She was home. It took about an hour until the luggage and the horses were taken off of the ship, and a carriage driver of the Rangers could be found to taken them to Byington Manor. Instinctively, Erik drew his hooded cloak around his features and kept his head down as he sat quietly in the wheelchair the Captain had given them as a prop.

Gwydion took César, Shadowfax and Muirgen and "helped" Erik out of his wheelchair and into the carriage. Isobel followed dutifully, although she longed to ride through the countryside. Once the luggage was packed, they took off at a steady pace with Gwydion on Muirgen, leading the other two horses.

The entire trip took about two or three hours. During the carriage ride, Erik could feel Isobel growing antsy as she stared out at the countryside. He was falling into a light sleep when she whispered "Look!" softly in his ear. He blinked, and gave a low gasp.

Her home was beautiful-the manor was large, with beautiful architecture. Yet it was not overtly gaudy or ostentatious, but gave off an air that was a mixture of freedom and secrecy. Gazing at it, Erik had a sudden sense that his answers about the dream maiden would be answered here, even if he didn't know how it would be possible.

They got out of the carriage, and servants helped Erik back into the wheelchair and brought the luggage in. The carriage driver had a slight grin as he told Isobel to give "the Lady Byington and her family his regards" before he drove back to the port.

Once he was out of sight, Erik stood up and looked at the brunette woman with some apprehension. Isobel smiled as she and Gwydion flanked him. "Welcome home, Erik." Isobel said brightly and led him to the guest house.


	16. Of Elves and Dúnedain

Author's Note: Yes, I'm back from the dead! (By schoolwork, no less.)  
I hope you guys enjoy this chapter...something feels off, but maybe it's because I attempted to condense the LoTR trilogy into a few paragraphs. It's a bit hard to do...but whatever. Remember, constructive criticism is good. I honestly don't mind it, so feel free to speak your minds!

Another thing, from here on out, Isobel will now be referred to by her true name of "Idril" now that Erik finds out one of her secrets. g

Elvish Terms:  
_Aranelinya_: "Princess" in Quenya  
_Ada_: "Father/Daddy" in Sindarin

_Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC _

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs. Also, there will be some, but not a ton of AU.

Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the D?in goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of 's line?

_Chapter 16: Of Elves and __Dúnedain_

To Erik's point of view, the inside of the house was like a beautiful mansion. It was warm and cozy, being decorated with earth and maroon tones. A sense of wonder made him run his hands over a beautifully carved chair. Isobel smiled gently, happy because he seemed happy. "I'll leave you to get acquainted with your new home then. If you'd like, you can either have dinner here or with Gwydion and myself." She told him. Erik paused for a moment, considering his options.

"I'll have dinner with you two." He said quietly. Isobel smiled and gestured for the servants to leave his belongings in the foyer, so Erik could unpack at his leisure. She met Gwydion in the foyer and took off her long traveling cloak. "I am so happy to be home!" Isobel sighed, sinking into a chair. He grinned at his friend. "It's about time, isn't it?" The grey-eyed Hunter joked, then his face grew serious. "Are you ever going to tell him the rest of our..err..'_family history_'?" Gwydion asked, sitting next to her.

Isobel stiffened, and turned to face him. "Wait...first you, my cousin and Valamir are insisting that we _can't_ tell Raoul and Christine the whole truth, and now you're suggesting we tell _Erik_? Who are you and what have you done with Gwydion?" she asked skeptically. He shrugged. "Look, I know the others would probably pitch a fit if they knew I was siding with you...but you can't possibly bring him up in front of the Council of Elders without knowing who and what they are. They wield incredible power, as do you _Aranelinya_." Gwydion said gently.

Isobel sighed. "I don't know how to broach the subject though. I can't just walk up to him and tell him '_Oh, remember that legend of Queen Evenstar and King Elessar? Well, I'm their descendant on my mother's side and my father is a Maia warrior who gave up his immortality to be with her._' Yes, that will go over splendidly!" she snapped, her tone sarcastic.

Gwydion gave his friend "_the Look_". Isobel rubbed her temples. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's just stressful, being back home. Yes, I'm happy to be home, but I also miss the freedom that comes from missions." She explained, getting up to pace.

The grey-eyed Hunter understood and gave her a swift hug. "I know _Idril_, I know." He soothed gently, patting her hair. She hugged him back tightly and then pulled back, a half grin on her face. "It does feel good to be called by my true name again." Isobel admitted. Gwydion laughed and swatted her gently.

All tension dissolved, and the two friends helped to set up for dinner before changing out of their traveling clothes. It wasn't long before Erik showed up, looking around with apprehension clearly written on his face. Isobel gave him a warm smile and led him to the dining area. They ate dinner and had a quiet conversation, all three trying to adjust to these new changes.

Dusk was falling swiftly, so Gwydion said good-bye to Isobel and Erik before saddling Muirgen and leaving for his own estate, two miles away. "Come, I will show you the library. You may use it whenever you like." Isobel said, leading him through the double doors and into the room. The masked man's eyes lit up. It was nowhere near as big as the library of the Shah of Persia, but for a noble, it was of a respectable size.

The brown-haired woman curled up a chair and motioned for him to look around. Erik did so gladly, all apprehension flitting away from him in that moment. One book caught his eye. It was a history of Ancient Egypt, and he picked it up eagerly.

"May I sit down?" Erik asked softly "Of course." She said with a smile. Erik sat down next to her and began to read. Unconsciously, they leaned into one another, Isobel resting her head on his shoulder. He looked over at her, smiling a little at how absorbed she was in the story.

Hours passed by in the library, as they talked of everything and nothing. His heart would turn over, as Erik wished it could be Christine sitting next to him, although Isobel was good company. Sometimes, he would find himself mentally comparing the two women, something he would quickly banish from his mind. _'You need to find _The Red Book Erik reminded himself silently.

It was about nine o'clock when Isobel stretched and got to her feet. "I am going to make ready for bed. Feel free to stay here as long as you'd like." She said before giving him a swift hug goodnight. Turning, she left for the bathroom as a servant-girl carried the bag that contained weapons, clothes and most importantly, _The Red Book_ to her room.

Waiting for what seemed like an eternity, Erik made sure there were no more servants around as he followed the girl to Isobel's room. He ducked into a dark corridor, and made sure the blonde girl was downstairs and Isobel herself gone before letting himself into her room.

It was a painted a beautiful shade of blue, with silver nature-based decorations. It was beautiful, but in a more subdued way. He spotted her bag by her bed, and with expert fingers, took the book and made his way back down to the library. As he began to read, Erik realized that nothing would ever be the same between himself and Isobel ever again.

**_"__Lúthien Tinúviel _was the daughter of the Elven-King Thingol of Doriath and Melian the Maia. She was the first elf to die, as she gave up her immortality to marry the man she loved, Beren One-Hand. Together, they wrested the Silmaril from Morgoth's brow..."**

After bathing, Isobel wrapped herself in a warm nightgown and a robe, intent on reading a little before going to sleep. She dug through her bag, only to find her book missing. A cold chill crept up her spine, and Isobel had a horrible feeling of where to look. Racing downstairs to the library, she found Erik sitting with his back towards her.

"So, _Mademoiselle Van Helsing_, when were you plan on telling me the truth?" he asked in quiet anger. The green-eyed woman flinched. "I was planning on telling you soon once I figured out a way to explain it in a rational, logical way!" she snapped back.

"**_Oh really_**? Then explain to me why I have been having dreams of elven-women, especially this Tinúviel! What, are you some sort of **sorceress**? Why are they haunting my dreams? What are you?" Erik's voice was full of menace as he backed her into a corner.

Isobel's eyes flashed in warning. "Sit down, and I will explain all." She said, standing tall. He looked at her and she grew impatient. "Sit down, or else I will not tell you!" Isobel said warningly. With a low growl, Erik sat and she gracefully sank down next to him on the couch.

"Yes, I haven't told you everything, but all that I did tell you is true. My mother, Alatáriel Telcontar is the Lady of the Dúnedain Rangers. To my people, I am Idril Telcontar, next Lady of the Rangers. All the stories I told you and Christine about the elves...they really are true. My mother's family are direct descendants of King Aragorn Elessar and Queen Arwen Evenstar. They lived in a time when the world was known as Arda, or Middle Earth. The times were dangerous, as a Dark Lord named Sauron created twenty rings with one master ring to rule them all. The One Ring was found by a hobbit-also known as a halfling-named Bilbo Baggins. He, in turn, passed it down to his nephew and heir, Frodo Baggins. " Here she paused in her tale, looking up at her audience. Erik merely raised one eyebrow, indicating that Isobel should continue.

"Together with his good friend and gardener, as well as two of his kin, the four hobbits set out for the elf-haven called Rivendell, as advised by their good friend; a wizard by the name of Gandalf the Grey. Rivendell was ruled by Arwen's father, an elf-lord named Elrond. There, he called a Council together with all the Free-Peoples of Middle Earth: elves, men, and dwarves were there. After much arguing, it was decided that the only hope they had of defeating Sauron was to destroy the One Ring in the fires of Mount Doom, where it was created."

Now Erik raised both eyebrows. In spite of everything, Isobel was still a fine storyteller and against his better judgment, he found himself mildly intrigued by the story.

"As they were chased by nine Nazgul, or Ringwraiths who were servants of the Dark Lord, the Fellowship of the Ring had nine members. Frodo Baggins was the Ringbearer, of course. With him came Samwise Gamgee, his best friend and gardener as well as his two cousins: Meriadoc "Merry" Brandybuck and Peregrin "Pippin" Took. Prince Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood was chosen to represent the Elves, and Gimli son of Gloin for the dwarves. For the world of Men, Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor was chosen, as well as my ancestor Aragorn. Gandalf went with them as a guide..." For over two hours, Isobel recounted the Fellowship's story and the struggle for freedom in Arda.

By the time she ended, Erik just leaned against the chair, trying to take it all in. "That does not explain the dreams. " He said softly. Isobel-or _Idril_, as he supposed he should think of her-sighed. "My father is Maia, like Melian and Gandalf of Old. He served Manwë and was charged with being one of the four guardians of humanity after the downfall of Arda. My father lost his memory, and the Holy Order found him and brought him into their service. It was on the mission where he met Mother that he regained his memory."

Pausing for breath, Isobel looked Erik straight in the eye. "They eventually fell in love, but their situation was similar to Aragorn and Arwen's. Mortal, immortal. Thus, my father gave up his and sundered his fate to my mother's." She explained.

Erik's eyes widened in shock and in envy. "What exactly does that mean?" he asked quietly. The brunette sighed. "Father is still a Maia, _nothing _can change that. He still has all his abilities and such...but he will die. He has renounced the world of Valinor where he lived for hundreds of years before becoming 'The Left Hand of God' and will go with Mother beyond the circles of this world." Isobel's eyes were bright, daring Erik to make a scathing comment.

"So you are a Maia too? Is that why I've been having those damn dreams?" he asked, yet with not as much anger as before. The enormity of what her father had given up absolutely astounded him. Isobel shook her head.

"Technically, I suppose I have Maia blood in me, but I'm as human as the next person. Honestly, the only perk I've inherited is the ability to 'sense evil' even though I don't have the Second Sight. I have absolutely no idea why you would be dreaming of Lúthien Tinúviel or even me. You don't have the Second Sight, do you?" she asked slowly.

"Of course not!" he scoffed. "All I can tell you is that '_O môr henion i dhú' _refers to a song Aragorn composed for Arwen. It's Sindarin, and it means _'out of darkness, I understand the night'_. If these dreams are still troubling you, I can ask my father. He might be able to decipher it for you." she replied, getting up to stretch. Erik nodded, not fully satisfied but he figured it was the best she could do. Besides, Isobel had given him much to think about.

"Another thing, Father and I will be speaking for you at the Dúnedain Council of Elders. Ada will also try to mediate a compromise between the and the Holy Order. If all goes well, you will be a free man." Isobel said quietly. Erik nodded his thanks. They sat in silence for a few long moments before the dark-haired woman stood up.

"It's late, and I am going to retire to my room. Here, you may borrow this to learn more about my people." Isobel said gently. Erik raised an eyebrow, surprised she would give a valued possession to him but he accepted it nonetheless.

"Good night, **_Idril_**."he said quietly and made to leave. Isobel was mildly surprised, but grinned at him. "Good night, Erik" she responded as the two made their way back to their sleeping quarters.

Before he went to sleep, Erik opened The Red Book and began to read, becoming immersed in a long-forgotten world of fantasy and magic. Isobel, on the other hand, was pondering why she had been dreaming of Erik. She had not the Sight, and she brooded on what this might mean in the future.


	17. From the Ashes

**_Author's Note: _**Ack, it's been too long! I apologize for taking so long, I was bogged down in finals and writing papers. Anyway, this chapter has some fluff and sets up the Idril/Erik pairing. Remember, don't hesitate in leaving constructive criticism to help the Muses out!

**Elvish Terms**:

_Eldar_: Elves (Quenya)_  
Noro lim_-Ride fast! (Taken from the Fellowship of the Ring movie) (Sindarin)  
_Eledhwen_-Elf maiden (Sindarin)  
_Ada-_Dad (Sindarin)  
_Naneth-_ Mom, Mother (Sindarin)_  
_  
_Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU. _

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my OCs. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, andAndrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.

Summary: When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of _Lúthien_'s line?

Chapter Seventeen: From The Ashes 

For the past few days, Idril and Erik were slowly trying to come to terms with the newest layer of their friendship. For his part, Erik was reading "_The Red Book_" and questioning Idril about her people's history. It astounded him that the Rangers were able to keep their heritage a secret for so many long years.

"My cousin and I are direct descendants of Eldarion, Aragorn's son and heir. There are others who are descended from Aragorn's daughters, but their blood has thinned out over the centuries. Because of Eldarion's blood, we were chosen long ago to lead the Rangers. There are still descendants of the ruling families of Ithilien, Rohan, and Dol Amroth, and they all have high positions on the council and are part of the Cabinet, but they elected my family to be the hereditary Lord or Lady." Idril explained as she saddled Shadowfax.

"That's not very democratic." Erik teased gently. She laughed. "My family didn't think so either, so that's why the Council of Elders and the Cabinet were created." Idril said, swinging herself into the saddle with Erik following suit.

The green-eyed Ranger led him to the edge of the her estate, where they could overlook the countryside. "Race you to that fence!" she laughed as Shadowfax darted forward. Erik blinked in surprised, and urged César after them.

"_Noro lim_ Shadowfax, _noro lim_!" Idril whispered, grinning. The white stallion made a soft sound of approval and ran faster. Yet Erik and César were catching up to them. Both were riding like the wind, feeling as if they had wings.

Erik laughed for sheer joy, something he hadn't done in years, as he won the impromptu race. The brown-haired woman was laughing too and for the first time, she looked her age. Idril's hair was coming out of it's hastily put together braid, framing her face in elf-locks and she looked windswept, yet it suited her.

"I'm surprised I beat a Ranger." he smiled. Idril's eyes glittered. "Just wait until fencing practice." she said mischievously. Erik grinned. "I shake in my boots." he laughed as she mock-glared at him. "Very funny." Idril smiled.

The horses slowed to a walk, and they came upon a clearing. The brunette woman jumped down and tethered Shadowfax. Erik gave her an odd look. "Come on, we haven't got all day!" she said happily. The masked man raised an eyebrow, puzzled, but elegantly jumped down nonetheless to tie the black stallion next to the white horse.

The young woman took off her shoes and unbound her hair before racing through the grass like a young filly. She danced around, enjoying the feel of the warm sunshine against her skin. Erik smiled at her antics before leaning against the fence and closing his eyes in contentment.

Idril paused in her romping, studying him for a few moments before a mischievous grin appeared. As quietly as any elf, she snuck up on Erik and then pounced on him. The dark-haired man's eyes flew open with surprise as he fell to his side, Idril next to him.

She started to laugh and nimbly got to her feet, darting away lightly. Erik was annoyed but decided to play along, hoping she'd get tired and leave him alone so that he could relax in peace. Idril's merry eyes teased him as she kept herself just out of reach. "Catch me if you can Erik!" she taunted and doubled her pace. He narrowed his eyes, his pride flaring up. Now he would make sure that he would catch Idril, mischievous maiden that she was.

Like her elven ancestors, Idril was fleet of foot but the Phantom was quickly catching up to her. He lunged and caught her, causing both of them to fall, one on top of the other. The elf-like woman laughed merrily as she looked up at her. Erik gave a smug smile, like a panther after a successful kill. "Not so swift as you believed, now are you _Eledhwen_?" he teased. She laughed harder. "Your Sindarin is improving! Besides, I let you win!" Idril smiled and gently touched his cheek.

At her light touch, Erik's breath caught in his throat and he realized the exact nature of their position. Blushing furiously, he got up and sat down next to her. Idril smiled shyly and then took his hand. She pulled him to his feet and broke into a slow run. "What are you _doing?_" he asked, utterly perplexed at her actions.

Idril grinned as she stopped mid run and spun around to face him. It caused her to go off balance and bump into Erik. He steadied her, and was utterly surprised when Idril took both of his hands. "Well, from the looks of it, I'm dancing with _you_." she responded cheekily.

Erik stiffened instinctively, but after much teasing, poking and prodding from Idril, he began to loosen up. Together they happily danced in the grass like the _Eldar _of old, with no cares at all. Intuitively, they both recognized that this was more then likely the calm before the storm, and they took advantage of every minute.

It was the late afternoon before they made their way back to the Byington estate. Idril hated to break the dreamlike idyll, but she had to. "I am writing to _Ada_ tonight, he's in Ireland with _Naneth_ on a mission. If all goes well, he'll receive it within a few weeks." Idril said softly. Erik gave an involuntary jerk. "And after that?" he responded. The dark-haired woman shrugged. "He will talk to you, and will help me in pleading your case for the Council of Elders. Only if we have their support, then can we appeal to the Holy Order." she explained. Erik nodded, but a knot of worry was forming in his intestines as they went their separate ways to wash up.

Once in the safety of his house, Erik began to prowl restlessly. "I need something to take my mind off of this..." he growled to himself as he took out the art supplies Idril had given him. Closing his eyes, Erik began to sketch out the figure of a woman dancing for joy at the coming of the twilight. The Muses began to sing once more and he was lost in their inspiration, blissfully ignoring for the moment his worries.

On the other hand, Idril was in her room getting changed out of her dirty clothes. Despite the upcoming trial, she was in a relatively good mood and couldn't put her finger on why. Shrugging it off, she quickly arranged her hair in a half-braid before going downstairs to relax in the library before dinner.


	18. Out of Darkness, I Understand the Night

Author's Note: New chapter after slaving away at college for so long! Huzzah!

_Elvish Terms:_

_Elbereth_-Sindarin, "Star-Queen", another name for Varda  
_Aranel-_ Quenya, "Princess"  
_Naneth-_Sindarin, Mother  
_Ada-_Sindarin, "Dad/Daddy"

_  
_**Pairings**: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU.

Disclaimer: I **don't own anything except my original characters. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, andAndrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.**

**Summary:** _When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

Chapter Eighteen:Out Of Darkness, I Understand The Night

After dinner, Erik retired to his studio to finish the painting he was working on. It was being painted in mostly in different shades of blues and purples, but the woman had Idril's features. Something about the day they had spent together touched him deeply, and in order to figure out the emotions she stirred in him, Erik expressed them in his artwork.

Meanwhile, Idril was composing the letter to her father. Taking a deep breath, she began to write, hoping her father would sense the urgency in her writing.

_Dear Ada,  
I am back in England. The Opera House mission turned out differently then anyone could ever foresee. The Phantom was no supernatural being, only a man named Erik born with a severe facial deformity who has suffered horribly at the hands of others. As Erik is not ruled by evil, I couldn't kill him in good conscience. I also know the Holy Order would be predisposed to not listen to his side of the story after hearing the accounts of Messieurs Andre and Firmin, so he's here in the guest house. _

Ada, I am begging you to please help me save this man. Please try to return as quickly as possible, as I feel we should take Erik before the Council of Elders to prove his innocence. You have the gift of looking into one's soul, and the Council would certainly be more willing to help if they knew of your judgment. If we can get the Council's support, perhaps we can reach a truce with the Holy Order and be able to lighten his sentence.  
Send Naneth all my love, and ask her advice as well. Send word through Carl of your decision.

Your loving daughter,  
Idril

The brunette woman sealed the letter in an envelope and was getting ready to mail the letter herself when Giltirithiel, the house guardian and Idril mother's oldest friend, stopped her. Giltirithiel was in her thirties, and had blonde hair with dark eyes. "No love, let me mail it for you. You've worn yourself out lately, go and rest." She said gently. "No, this is important, it's for Ada and concerns our guest." Idril protested. "I figured as much, but don't worry, it's in safe hands. Now go and relax!" the older woman admonished sternly. She sighed in annoyance, but relented. Giltirithiel took the letter and donned a wool traveling cloak.

When the guardian left, Idril felt strangely alone so she decided to take a walk in the gardens. There was one that was secret to all but the Rangers, as it was decorated in the style of the elves. It always had the power to soothe her soul and make her feel connected to her Telcontar ancestors.

Her father had built itin a feeble attempt to re-create his ancient home in Valinor and Idril has spent her childhood playing here. She stopped to admire a sculpture of the Star-Queen and sat down at a nearby bench to think. Today had been one of the more happier days so far. His will and fighting spirit were equal to her own, which was probably the reason why Erik was one of the few people who constantly challenged Idril. The "mission" wasn't fully over yet, but Idril knew that she had made the right decision. She still had no idea why they were connected in this odd way, yet in a strange way it was comforting.

Calmner now, Idril made her way back into the guest house, smiling gently at the light emanating from Erik's studio. There was nothing to do now but wait for her father's response. Obscurely comforted, the Ranger got ready to go to sleep with a lighter heart.

On the other hand, Erik worked like a maniac into the early hours of the morning to finish the piece. There was something about it that kept gnawing at his mind and wouldn't let him rest. Idril was staring out at him from the painting, dancing in the twilight and the rising moon. He stared at finished product in astonishment. The frenzy that had overtaken him had only shown itself during the long months of constantly drawing Christine. Why had it suddenly shown itself now?

Erik growled as a sudden thought hit him. "No...it's out of the question that I am starting to care even more for that headstrong elf-maid." He muttered. After all, Christine was the love of his life-it was insane to think that some monster-hunting Edain Ranger could take his Angel's place.

It wasn't that Erik didn't like Idril, in fact they were quite close, but a romance between the two was inconceivable. Yet a part of him kept whispering to him; making the former Phantom recall her mischievous smile.  
Erik shook his head as if to shake the traitorous thoughts away as he made ready to get some sleep, leaving the puzzling question alone for now.

The weeks passed by slowly for the two of them. The air grew thick with tension as Idril frequently escaped to her garden and Erik to his music as they waited impatiently for some word of reply. As it happened, the Edain woman was showing Erik the elven-inspired garden and they were discussing their thoughts on the concepts of Destiny and free Will.

"Personally, I believe in a little bit of both. Where would my family be if Aragorn and Arwen had never met, or Frodo had never been given the Ring? As the Lady Galadriel once said, 'Even the smallest person can change the course of the future'." Idril said. Erik shook his head in disagreement. "I believe in free will, I don't believe some all-powerful God is controlling my movements as if I were a puppet on his string." He said with some scorn.

Idril shrugged. "To each his own...but I think my father would disagree with you." She teased. He smiled and laughed. "Ah yes, your father, the Maia. Forgive me, but I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the concept that your father is an immortal being." Erik said. She laughed merrily. "Most people outside of the Rangers do. It is a bit unbelievable" Idril smiled gently.

The dark-haired man snorted. "Just a bit." He joked. The tension that had lingered between them suddenly lightened as they sat there for a few long moments merely smiling at each other. The silence was broken by a cry of "Idril, Idril!". It was Carl.

The Dúnedain woman was up and running before Erik had time to blink. She threw open the garden door and ran to meet her "Uncle". "Uncle Carl!" Idril said joyfully, hugging the bewildered friar. " 'ello, Idril. Your father received your letter, your parents are on the way. They finished the mission just yesterday." He said. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped back from the hug. A soft tread made Idril turn and extend her hand. "Carl, this is Erik." Idril said, smiling at the masked man warmly.

Erik looked warily at the friar, who just blinked a few times before sputtering "Oh, er...it's..er..nice to meet you." The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow behind his porcelain mask but nodded. "Likewise." He said smoothly. Idril sighed and ushered them back into the house. "Please sit down, Uncle Carl. You must be exhausted." She said gently. He nodded and collapsed into a chair. Erik and Idril did the same, Erik staying close by her side like a protective panther.

"You have no idea, _Aranel_. That bloody sorceress Einthada teamed up with a vampire named Fenix to try and take over a small town in America to use as their base once they got more followers. Fenix wasn't very smart, but Einthada was frighteningly cunning." The Friar said.

"What new inventions did you make for this mission?" she teased. He smiled. "Now that you mention it, I did. I found a way to include a tiny needle filled with holy water in the tojo blades. It's how they killed Fenix." Carl said proudly. " A work of certifiable genius, eh?" Idril laughed, bringing up an old family joke. The friar groaned. "Not that old joke! It's twenty-five years old!" he complained.

This time Erik joined in on the laughter, even if he didn't understand the joke. "You're an inventor?" he asked with genuine interest. Carl nodded and began to describe in detail some of his creations. Erik listened and gave his opinions and ideas on how to improve. It led to a good discussion, with Idril throwing in some comments now and then.

It was a good move, as Erik and Carl would have to dorm together in the guest house and it wouldn't do to have tensions. The friar became more comfortable around the Phantom as they had a friendly debate over inventions and ideas for new ones. In turn, Erik lost some of his watchfulness around Idril's "Uncle".

As the night wore on, the Edain women rested her head on the Phantom's shoulder. Erik touched her hair gently, enjoying the human contact. The blonde friar watched Erik and Idril's interactions with a smile on his face but said nothing to them of his conclusions.

Eventually, they said goodnight and went to get ready for bed. The dark haired woman took this night as a good sign-Carl didn't seem to have a problem with him, so they might just have a fighting chance. Before she went to bed, she sent a quick prayer to _Elbereth_ that all would go well once her parents came home. The thought of loosing made her go cold and she shivered, not wanting to think about that path. For now, it was enough that her parents were on their way. With that thought, Idril turned over and went to sleep.


	19. A Glimpse of Eternity

Author's Note: It's good to be back!

_Elvish Terms: _

Elbereth-Sindarin, "Star-Queen", another name for Varda_  
Naneth/Nana_-Sindarin, Mother_  
Adar/Ada_-Sindarin, "Dad/Daddy"****

Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU.

Disclaimer: I **don't own anything except my original characters. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, andAndrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.**

Summary: _When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

_Chapter Nineteen: A Glimpse of Eternity_

_Five weeks later:_

As Gabriel Van Helsing made his way towards his Lewes estate, he couldn't help but be curious his daughter's recent Parisian adventure. Van Helsing had heard the stories of the Phantom, and he wondered about this man who had impersonated a ghost for so long. He looked over at his sleeping wife, his thoughts immediately turning to the first time he had met her.

**Flashback**:

"You _are Gabriel Van Helsing?" Alatáriel asked smoothly, raising one eyebrow. He nodded curtly, studying his new partner. She was fairly tall for women of this time, with piercing green-blue eyes and long black hair . Alatáriel was wearing black trousers and a dark green tunic with a matching underbust corset with boots that went up to her calf. Around her waist was an ancient sword that still looked deadly and her cloak was of a a grey-green color. A sudden wave of sadness hit him-Anna should be here beside him. Once again, he flashedbacked to the Romania mission. A memory of the pain that racked his body when he had transformed into the werewolf made him suppress a shudder. _'Anna...' _his mind cried._

_Gabriel also remembered the shock of realizing that he was in love with her. The warrior-queen of the Rangers, a firebrand...but loving, courageous and intelligent. Alatáriel had her ancestress Arwen's elven-beauty in spades, and it was no wonder why she had been named for the Lady Galadriel. _

She wrapped her arms around him and held him as he rested his head on her shoulder. "I-I..I remember. Everything_. I...I-I-I'm a..."his voice trailed off. "A Maia?" Alatáriel finished gently, making him sit down next to her. Gabriel pulled in a shuddering breath, but his features relaxed. "Y-yes. A _Maia_." he said, trying to control his voice._

_It was their wedding day and Gabriel watched the standard bearers walk before his Queen. The Lady of the Dúnedain was radiant in silver and white. Her crown was silver and woven with diamonds, emeralds, sapphires and aquamarine. Her eyes lit up the moment the bearers moved away and she saw him._

Alatáriel woke up and smiled gently at her husband, the same smile that he had fallen in love with twenty-four years ago. "I wonder how Idril is faring." she said quietly. Gabriel gave a gentle smile back. "She has your good sense, I'm sure she's faring well." "I'm more intrigued by this Erik fellow. Obviously he had to have some good in him, or else she wouldn't have saved him." the Dúnedain Queen continued. Her husband nodded his assent. "I agree...but we will see when we meet him." he said quietly. His wife agreed, and they continued the journey home in quiet contemplation. They neared an inn by midnight, and stopped to get some sleep.

The weeks passed, and they were a day away from home. So close to Lewes, Gabriel could "feel" his daughter and Erik's anxiety rolling off of them in waves. He couldn't get a bearing on what this Erik fellow was like yet, but Van Helsing had to consciously build a mental wall to shield himself from the anxious energy he was receiving from them.

One day, Idril woke up and dressed in a frenzy. "Erik...my parents are home." she said after breakfast. He almost spit out his water from shock. "W-what? How the bloody hell do you know?" he asked coughing. Idril shrugged, her eyes distant. "Maiar blood, remember? Sensing the presence of my kin is just one of the very, very few perks I have. They're here! The carriage...let's go!" she said, pulling him to his feet. Her face was bright with excitement, and Erik noticed again that feline air Idril could sometimes show.

With her cat-eyes glittering, Idril yelled for Carl to meet them outside and ran into the courtyard, Erik following her. The Tari and the Aran were getting out of the carriage. "_Naneth! Ada!_" she said joyfully, as she ran over to give them a hug.

"Oh my darling, how are you?" Alatáriel cried in Quenya, embracing her daughter. "I'm fine Naneth, I just missed you and Ada terribly." Idril replied before Gabriel gave his daughter a swift hug. "_Nana_, _Ada_...this is Erik." Idril stepped away from her parents to stand by the Phantom's side. They smiled and Gabriel shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you." he said, tone laconic. Erik nodded. "It's nice to meet you too." he said quietly. Then Carl came outside to say hello, talking animatedly to her parents.

As they went inside, Idril stopped Erik. "How are you?" she asked quietly. He gave an elegant shrug. "Fine, I suppose." Erik lied. She rolled her eyes. "My parents won't hurt you." Idril reassured him. "I know that." Erik responded softy, lacing his fingers through hers. She rested her head on his shoulder for a long moment, both of them lost in contemplation. As one, they both turned and made their way into the house. Everyone was in the living room, and so the two joined the rest there.

Lunch was a pleasant affair, with Erik slowly warming up to her parents. They were cordial and amble, sensing that he was like a wild tiger feeding from their hand. They needed to earn his trust slowly but surely. Idril kept flicking her eyes back and forth between her parents and her newfound friend, trying to read the air. Carl was also watching his niecee and the Phantom like a hawk, as if the normally absent-minded friar could see something they did not. For his part, Erik was doing his best to fight his old instincts and stay polite.

After the meal was cleaned up, Gabriel motioned for his daughter and the dark-haired man to enter the study. "Make your self at home Erik." he said quietly. The former Phantom's instincts flared up, and the Maia warrior sensed it. With a small amount of concentration he sent out a feeling of being calm into the air. More then anything, Gabriel wanted to help his daughter and he couldn't do that without winning this strange man's trust. It was like trying to make friends with a starving panther.

"Tell me what happened." Gabriel asked gently. Idril and Erik shared a glance, and began to tell their tale. They took turns narrating, and with a preternatural Sight, he could see the interlacing bond between them. Soon the masked man took over the story. "I do not hide from the fact that I dropped the chandelier, nor that I have blood on my hands. I know what I am." Erik said quietly. From the ripples in the air, Van Helsing knew that Erik was sincere in his claim. He may have committed evil acts and harmed others, but he himself was not of evil. Of darkness surely, but then again, so was Gabriel.

Van Helsing nodded, and the Phamtom could see that the older man understood. He began to relax a little bit, but still keeping a wary eye. Idril's mother had come in quietly and watched them, blue eyes curious. Erik felt tense, being interviewed by an immortal being. Not that the average mortal would ever notice that Gabriel Van Helsing was not like themselves. On a closer look, the Maia still shone through the human facade. There was a subtle preternatural glow around the hunter. Also, there was a hint of an ancient wisdom in his gaze. This was a powerful being that had lived since Time began, and had survived it. Gabriel was not one to be take lightly. Slowly, he began to speak. "I understand, better then you know." Gabriel responded in a quiet tone. Alatáriel watched her husband, sensing his intentions.

"Erik, if you please, stand up." Van Helsing commanded. Slowly, warily, the Phantom walked over. Idril watched with wide eyes as her father placed his hand on Erik's shoulder and motioned for Erik to do the same.

With a sigh, the Maia dropped his human facade and let his true self emerge. The Phantom's eyes were almost blinded by a bright light, but he didn't let go. Then suddenly, he felt like he was lifted up out of the room on wings into eternity. For one split second, he saw the world through Idril's father's eyes. The universe was a place of light and dark, a balance. Erik could see bonds of light intertwining between himself and Idril. They glowed a bright silver-blue and wrapped around their bodies. Van Helsing too had changed-he was a shining being of pure white light. The light dimmed, but instead he was wearing white robes and had massive white wings sprouting from his shoulder blades.

For Gabriel, he was seeing the masked man's past and present. The two timelines merged and coalesced into one, and he was viewing them all at the speed of light. The Maia could see the darkness forever etched into the Phantom's soul, but there was one lone candle of goodness. Thanks in part to his daughter's help, the candle was starting to flare and multiply. Van Helsing slowly broke the visions, and brought them both back to their normal state.

Idril leaped out of her seat and guided a shell-shocked Erik to sit down next to her. Likewise, her mother helped her father sit down. "I apologize, but that was the only way I could tell." the monster hunter said quietly. Erik merely nodded, still trying to sort through the things he had seen. "And your decision?" Idril's voice betrayed none of the nervousness coursing through her body. Gabriel gave his daughter a reassuring smile. "We will call Council, and I shall speak for him." he responded simply.

Alatáriel and Gabriel smiled as their daughter's eyes lit up. Erik visibly relaxed as Idril hugged him tightly. He smiled, and it was like the Sun had come out on a previously cloudy day. He hugged her back, relieved that Van Helsing had accepted him. Yet he was a bit stunned-could this really be his chance at a normal life? Looking at the beaming Idril, he felt relief flow through him. He had been accepted, and it was so startling. Erik honestly could not believe this was happening to him.

A month ago Erik had been plotting the demise of the Vicomte de Chagny and now look where he was! Why this good fortune had suddenly come upon him, Erik did not know and was still wary of it. He had been hurt too many times to truly get his hopes up, but a small part of him that Erik had thought long since dead hoped it would continue. Turning from his thoughts, he put a small smile on his face and allowed himself to relax a bit. Idril too was relieved that her parents had agreed to speak for Erik. The future looked bright as she smiled at Erik, sending a whispered prayer of thanks to Elbereth. _'Please Star-Queen, help us plead our case...'_


	20. News Sent By The Wind

_Author's note:_ I apologize for taking a leave of absence. There was a lot of drama going on, and my Muses went on vacation. But fear not, I am back, and I introduce a new plot twist in this chapter! __

Elvish Terms:

_**Meleth nin**_**-my love in Sindarin  
_Aranel_-Quenya for "Princess"  
_Elbereth_-"Star Queen", the Sindarin name for Varda  
_Noro Lim_-Sindarin for "Ride fast"**

Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything except my original characters. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, and Andrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.****

Summary: _When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

Summary:Pairings:

_ Chapter Twenty: News Sent By The Wind_

Erik and Idril were in the elven garden, discussing literature. It was a great joy to discover a woman who had a good education and was not afraid to voice her opinions, to Erik's line of thinking. They sat down, talking animatedly and debating playfully. "Did your father call Council yet?" he asked. The green-eyed woman nodded. "Yes, although it should be another week or so." She replied, gazing up at the stars. The Phantom merely studied his friend quietly. Idril looked at him, puzzled. "What is it?" she asked, tilting her head. There was an odd flash in his eyes that disappeared as quickly as it came. "Nothing." Erik merely shock his head, smiling a little.

"My aunt, uncle and cousin should be here any day now. Valamir is coming along with them as well." Idril said absently. "Eleanor, you mean?" Erik recalled Idril telling him about a young woman three years younger then herself, with the same dark hair but with sky-blue eyes. "Elemmírë, yes." She responded, using her cousin's "true name."

"So, I'm finally in the Ranger's good graces to use everyone's 'true names'?" the masked man gave a teasing smile. The brunette woman laughed. "Of course! If anyone has any objections, they have me to answer to! Being of the Elessar's bloodline has its benefits" Idril's eyes danced merrily. "Such a spoiled elf princess you are!" Erik laughed as he ducked a playful smack from his friend. "I jest, I jest!" he held up his hands as a sign of surrender. Idril smirked triumphantly, eliciting a small laugh from her friend. They laughed and joked, trying to enjoy the calm before the storm.

Meanwhile, Alatáriel was in her own room. The Lady of the Rangers ran her fingers over a beautifully carved chest before opening it. Inside lay a gleaming bow from an age of heroes long past, an elaborate sword and dagger set, and a flowing blue dress. The dark-haired woman's eyes misted over as she recalled her childhood best friend.

"Are you okay?" Gabriel's voice jolted his wife out of her dark recollections. Alatáriel gave a sad smile. "Just remembering." He saw the look in her eyes, and sat down beside her. "She was a good warrior, one of the best. But _meleth nin_, Angharad made the choice to sacrifice herself. She sleeps beside Arthur now." The hunter said softly. "And with Vladislaus." the Lady reminded him, almost bitterly. Her husband sighed. "How could I ever forget? Darling, Idril is not Angharad, nor is Erik anything like Vladislaus."  
Alatáriel closed her eyes tightly against an age-old pain. "I know that. Erik, for all his being immersed in darkness, is a true gentleman. I can see what he and our daughter cannot see just yet and I know in my heart that he wouldn't hurt Idril. I just pray to the _Valar_ that our daughter isn't called upon to make the same sacrifice that Angharad did." She said quietly. Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around his wife. "_Meleth nin_, I cannot see all ends as I once did, but I can say with a good deal of certainty that Idril won't have to take the same path." He reassured his Queen.

Alatáriel's blue-green eyes glittered with emotion as she leaned into her husband's embrace. His words calmed her soul, and she intuitively knew them to be true. Alatáriel kissed Gabriel and watched the sunset.

Meanwhile, Idril was watching the same sunset with Erik. She smiled as it grew dark and the stars appeared one by one. "_Elbereth's_ creation has never failed to amaze me." She remarked quietly. The Phantom turned to look at her. "Yes, your Star-Queen's artistry is beautiful." He responded softly. Idril turned slightly to look at him and they stayed like that for a few long, tense moments. "Idril, dinner is ready! Your parents told me to tell you to hurry in!" Carl yelled from the window.

To his surprise, Idril gave an embarrassed smile. "We'd better go in." she said softly. Erik gave her a puzzled look, but nodded. One part of him mentally cursed out the Friar for interrupting an opportune moment. Then he gave a mental growl at his own confusing feelings. "Erik?" the Ranger asked. Erik shook himself out of his thoughts and followed Idril inside.

Over the next few days, Erik grew moody in response to the conflicting emotions. It seemed as if his mind was now a battleground between two different parts of himself that were each whispering a different direction to go in. Therefore, he naturally became more snappish and on edge, preferring to spend time alone. Idril felt slightly hurt, but she thought it was nerves about the upcoming council. So she would take take long rides with Shadowfax, thinking Erik wanted his solitude.

Two days later, Idril and Shadowfax were returning from a ride when she spotted her Aunt Morwyn's carriage. They had finally arrived! Her Uncle Haldir poked his head out of the carriage window. He grinned at his niece. "Hullo, _aranel_. We'll see you at the house" Haldir waved as the carriage pulled ahead of Idril and the white horse.

Shadowfax nickered and the young woman smiled. "Think we can beat them, boy?" she asked. The stallion gave a soft snort. "_Noro lim_!" Idril laughed as Shadowfax leaped forward. Woman and horse were one as they hopped the fence towards home. The horse put in a burst of speed, pacing the carriage on the road beside the lawn. Distantly, Idril heard Valamir's laughing voice call out "That's cheating!"

With a happy laugh, Idril slowed Shadowfax to a fast canter, letting the carriage roll past up to the house. Once it stopped, Haldir stepped out and hugged his niece as she jumped down. "Still the feisty shield-maiden, eh?" he teased. She smirked. "Hello to you too, Uncle Haldir!" Idril responded before hugging her aunt, cousin and Guardian. "Please, don't wait for me. Naneth and Adar are waiting for you." She said before walking towards the stables. "I'll go with you." Elemmírë volunteered, eager to catch up with her cousin.

"So...what is this mysterious Phantom like?" Elemmírë asked curiously. The other woman shrugged. "He's...interesting." Idril responded vaguely. Her cousin's eyes gleamed. "Stop being so vague! Honestly, what is this Erik fellow like?" she pressed, watching the Princess carefully. Idril gave a slow smile. "Erik is very intense-not surprising, since he is a genius: magician, architect and composer. When he truly wants to be, Erik is the picture of a perfect gentleman. But because of his deformity and the hell he's been through in the past, he doesn't trust very easily and he has all the instincts of a jungle predator. With that comes an explosive temper, and he is capable of killing you in a blind rage. Yet with all his negative qualities, Erik can be gentle, creative, witty and intelligent. In short, he is a walking, talking contradiction." She explained.

The other Dúnadan hunter raised her eyebrow. "I think someone has a bit of a crush." Elemmírë teased. Idril blushed furiously. "What makes you think that?" she asked sharply. Her cousin smirked. "Your eyes lit up just now...and you described him in such vivid terms. Any fool can see that you care about him." She said. "Of course I care about him, I've become friends with him, you dolt!" Idril rolled her eyes. Elemmírë grew smug. "Protest all you want, but I can see it, even if you don't want to admit it to yourself." Then her playful smirk disappeared. "Just one word of caution Idril-do not betray your feelings at the Council, for it could turn the tide against you." She warned. Her cousin's eyes grew dark. "That shouldn't be hard, as I do not have any romantic feelings for him!" Idril snapped, irritated by Elemmírë's teasing. "Suit yourself, cousin." The Ranger shrugged and dropped the subject.

They made small talk as Idril unharnessed Shadowfax and began to rub the horse down. Once she was done, they walked back to the manor. From the window, Erik paused in his painting to give Idril a quick wave hello. Elemmírë watched the other woman's eyes suddenly glint with happiness as she grinned and waved back. The younger woman gave a satisfied, secretive smile and continued to walk.

Once inside the house, Idril went to change and Elemmírë to say hello to the rest of her family. Morwyn and her husband and daughter would be staying at Gwydion's manor, as he was Elemmírë's fiancee. "Princess, you have come into your own! Good Valar..Gabriel, you are going to have to beat the suitors off with a stick!" Haldir exclaimed. Idril squirmed uncomfortably, not minding the teasing, but remembering how the boys her age would run from her as a child. "Oh, leave her alone!" Morwyn playfully swatted her husband on the shoulder. Valamir saw his charge's discomfort, and tactfully changed the subject.

Alatáriel was the cheerful hostess, overjoyed to see her beloved sister, brother in law, and niece once more. The life of a Ranger was fraught with peril, and it was often hard to see one's extended family. Even Gabriel was laughing with Haldir and Valamir. Idril glanced around the room and her frayed nerves began to relax. With her family here by her side supporting her, the Ranger felt soothed. She slipped out quietly, hoping to find Erik so that he could meet the rest of her family.

He was walking towards the garden, but came over to her. "I saw the carriage...was that your family?" Erik asked. "Yes, they're here. Come on, let me introduce you to them!" Idril gave a mischievous smile and ignoring Erik's protests, dragged him to the Main House. They tiptoed back into the room, but suddenly he pulled back, feeling shy. The Ranger turned, looking puzzled. "Fear not, they won't harm you." She grinned and tugged on his sleeve. He shook his head and laughed. "Very well then. Lead on." Erik replied with a small smile. They entered the room, and it seemed as if all eyes were on them.

Her family was friendly, with Morwyn and Haldir saying a quick hello and Elemmírë and Valamir coming over to talk. "In five days, we will have council. Gabriel just received a telegram from the Elders." The older man announced. Idril and Erik exchanged looks, but both had expected this and took the news nicely. The night passed quickly, as the rest of Idril's kin had to leave for Gwydion's estate. Valamir would be bunking with Erik, as he was Idril's Guardian. They made talked of mundane topics before departing into their separate rooms for sleep. As he stared into the darkness, the former Phantom felt that these next five days would be the longest days of his life.


	21. The Phantom And The Princess

_**Author's note:**_ Sorry everyone, college has been getting in the way. Hopefully over break I'll have more time to myself.

**Elvish Terms:**

_**Aranel- **_Quenya for Princess

_**Tindómirë-**_Quenya for Jewel of Twiliight

_**Silestelmirë-**_Quenya for Jewel of Shining Hope

_**Aran-**_Quenya for King

_**Tari-**_Quenya for Queen

_**Elen síla lúmenn' omentielmo-**_Quenya for "a star shines upon the hours of our meeting"

_**Ada-**_Quenya for Father

_**Pairings:**_ E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU.

**_Disclaimer: _**I don't own anything except my original characters. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, and Andrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.

Summary: _When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

Chapter Twenty One: The Phantom and The Princess

It was the day before the Council was to meet, and Erik was pacing like a caged panther in the elvish garden. Idril was gazing off into the distance, contemplating something, for her eyes were very far away. Breaking out of her reverie, the Princess walked over and put a soothing hand on his shoulder. "We have a good chance, you know." She said gently, looking into his eyes. He turned towards her and clasped her hand. "Of course I know, but it isn't your life that hangs in the balance." Erik responded. "No, of course not, but there would be severe repercussions from the Vatican if we fail." Idril said. "But we will not fail." She said, standing next to him. "I hope the blood of your distant ancestress Lúthien protects us as it did Aragorn Elessar." Erik mumbled. The Edain Princess smiled. "We find out at noon tomorrow" she replied, resting her head against his shoulder. They stood like that for a long time, just drinking up the tranquility in the air.

But they could not stop Father Time. Before either of them knew it, it was the next morning. Idril woke early and after eating breakfast, went to dress. After much discussion with her mother, they both decided that the replica of one of Queen Arwen's gowns was best. The gown was beautiful-made of a white silk that flowed like water. It was covered in clear glass beads that caught the light and gave off a soft glow. 'The Angel gown...perfect'. Idril thought with a small smile. She wanted it to be clear that she was a Daughter of both Elves and Men, a direct descendant to the Evenstar herself.

Along with the "Angel" gown, Idril wore her green elvish pendant. Like Arwen before her, all the females of Elessar's line had a necklace crafted for them in the elven style on their sixteenth birthday. They were to wear it always, until they found the man they chose to marry. Then their husband to be would wear it for a year to symbolize their devotion, and would give it back to their bride on their wedding day. Idril's pendant was called the _Tindómirë_, or the Jewel of Twilight. Alatáriel bore the _Silestelmirë_, or the Jewel of Shining Hope. The emerald set into the middle of Idril's necklace was a reminder of the Elessar, the stone that had given Aragorn his throne name. She belted Hadhafang, to reiterate that she was of Arwen's line. Gabriel wore his full kingly armor, and Alatáriel wore a long purple dress and the crown of Elendil. Belted around her waist was Andúril, the Sword of the Kings.

They met Erik, who was elegantly dressed in black and wore his white porcelain mask and was standing next to Valamir. Together, the four of them took the carriage to Gwydion's estate, where council would be held. Erik blinked when he saw Idril:the light of the Evenstar was evident in her eyes. He marveled at the hidden royal blood now reveled: an ancient light seemed to surround Elessar's kin, but an ancient wisdom was there as well. Idril surreptitiously took his hand and squeezed it to reassure him.  
It was time. Valamir, Idril and Erik stepped out of the carriage, heads held high. Behind them the _Aran_ and _Tari_ of the Rangers followed, and they walked into Gwydion's mansion. The entrance was packed with carriages, and some of the council members were milling about outside. Erik could feel their eyes upon him, but he kept his expression neutral.

The five of them were greeted by Gwydion, who showed them into a waiting room adjacent to the ballroom which had been turned into a meeting hall for today. Valamir stood guard, watching the Dúnedain as they filtered into the massive room.

Once all the Council members had been seated, it was time for the Telcontars to sit at the High Seat. Slowly, majestically, they made their way to the platform. A few minutes later, Valamir walked in front of Erik, and led him to a seat next to the Telcontar's.

The ancestral leaders descended from Rohan, Dol Amroth, Gondor and Ithilien stood up and said as one: "You have called a council to decided the fate of Erik Kavanagh, Phantom of the Opera. We the people ask why he should be let free." Idril stood up, proud and strong, the daughter of kings. Taking her deep breath, she began her tale, explaining why she felt Erik should be pardoned.

Afterward, Gabriel and Alatáriel stated their reasons, with Gabriel describing what he had seen in Erik's aura. The council muttered to themselves and the court seemed to hold their breath. Finally, it was Erik's turn to speak for himself.

"I do not hide from what I have done. Yes, I have killed, extortioned, and wreaked havoc. I was a paid assassin in Persia, the Shah's own personal Angel of Death. From a young age, any hope I had for a normal life was destroyed by my mother's treatment of me due to this," Here Erik gestured to the mask that covered part of his face. "-a deformity that I had been born with. I had run away at the age of nine and been captured by a traveling gypsy band. They displayed me as part of their freakshow attraction, 'the Living Corpse'. But I do not tell you these things out of a desire to gain sympathy or pity. I am a proud man, and I despise both of those emotions. I tell you this only so you can see both sides of me and judge accordingly." the former Phantom paused to take a breath.

"If all goes well and I am allowed to go free, I will keep your secrets. All I ask is a chance to live my life in peace, with my music, art, and architecture. It is all I want-I am ready to relinquish my former life underneath the Opera House." Erik finished, and sat back down.

The Council was quiet. Then a storm of whisperings broke the silence. The Telcontars and Erik sat, waiting for the Council members to stop arguing. Then Earrine, the representative of Dol Amroth and mother of Gwydion stood up and smiled. "Since the Fall of Arda, the Telcontar family has ruled the Rangers. Lúthien's line has not failed us then, and I see no reason why it will not fail us now. Gabriel is a _Maia_ and has ruled well as the _Aran_. Alatáriel is of the Elessar's kin, and has never failed us yet as the _Tari_. Although Idril is young and untested, her instincts were good. It was something Aragorn Elessar would have done, _Aranel_." Earrine said to her Princess.

"Therefore, we have voted to allow Erik Kavanaugh, former Phantom of the Opera, the protection of the Dúnedain Rangers. My Lady, we will vouch for him in front of the Holy Order and the Pope himself." Earrine continued. Erik's eyes bugged out. He couldn't believe it. They were letting him off? They were honestly letting him go free? Was he that convincing? Why on Earth would the Rangers let him go?

Idril turned to him, eyes dancing. "We did it! We actually did it!" she whispered happily. Erik blinked a few times, still trying to get over the shock. "Unbelievable. I...we did, didn't we?" he responded, a full smile finally gracing his face. "And you _doubted _us." Idril teased gently and gave him a congratulatory hug. He laughed and hugged her back. "Thank you." Erik whispered, meaning it. She tilted her head. "You're welcome, but it's not smooth sailing just yet. Now we have to convince the Pope". Idril reminded him, suddenly serious. "I know." He responded. "No fears, if we can do this, we'll be able to win the war." The Princess reassured him brightly. "Spoken like a true warrior!" Erik smirked.

They mingled with the other Rangers, the rest of Idril's family congratulating them. Erik got to meet the rest of the Council of Elders, including Earrine. Gwydion's mother had dark curly hair, pale skin and warm brown eyes.

"Thank you." He said quietly and sincerely. The Lady of Dol Amroth gave a gentle smile. "Your welcome." She responded before turning to Idril. "You are going to be a fine leader,_ Aranel_. You will not fail us when the time comes to take your place as the Lady of the Dúnedain. Also, you did the right thing." Earrine said proudly. Idril gave a full-out bright grin, happy that her people were proud of her. Now all they had to do was clear Erik's name before the Vatican, and she knew from her father that it was going to be easier said then done. After Cardinal Jinette had passed on, the new Cardinal was much more strict in his rulings. He would want to condemn Erik right away. Idril walked away to the window, already lost in thought.

As she did so, an aged crone approached Erik. "I need to talk to you." Menelwen gestured imperiously to the Phantom. Raising an eyebrow, he followed her to a quiet corner. "My name is Menelwen, one of the Seers of the Dúnedain and mother of Lady Earrine's husband. You and the Princess Idril have been having dreams about one another, am I correct?" she asked. Erik stared. "Yes." he said slowly. "Of course, you want to know why. Listen closely Erik Kavanagh, Phantom of the Opera. You have a bond with the Princess, a very strong one." the elderly woman stated.

"Yes...and? It doesn't explain why we had been dreaming of one another before we had even met!" the masked man said scornfully. "Don't be impudent with me, boy! The bond between you two is rare-think of what most silly, empty-headed young girls would call 'soul mates'. It's not quite that, because it doesn't have to be romantic. Indeed, it's most often platonic then romantic. The Fellowship of the Ring had such a bond." Menelwen explained.

Erik stood stock-still. "And the bond between Idril and myself? How did that come about?" he asked softly. The crone Seeress shrugged. "The answer is hidden in mists. Only the phantom and the princess will be able to discern the truth." She said cryptically. He was about to make an angry retort, but then the woman in question walked over to them.

"_Elen síla lúmenn' omentielmo_, Menelwen!" Idril curtsied to the elderly lady as she gave the standard form of greeting. "_Elen síla lúmenn' omentielmo_, _Aranel_ Idril!" Menelwen greeted the younger woman in Quenya. "Your friend Erik is a good man. I pray to the _Valar_ that you win against the Holy Order." She said before moving on back into the shadows. Idril's brow furrowed. "What was that all about?" she asked, thoroughly puzzled. Erik's eyes were distant and pensive. "That Seeress of yours thinks we have some sort of bond. Similar to the Fellowship and that's why we were in each other's dreams." He said.  
Idril looked up sharply. "Really? Did she know why the bond started in the first place?" she asked. He shook his head. "Hmm.._Ada_ might now. I'll ask him tomorrow morning. I need to speak to my cousin before we leave, but just remember to meet by the carriage in one hour." Idril said gently and leaned forward to give him a soft kiss on his cheek. Erik twisted his head in surprise as his lips met her own for one long moment. Then they broke apart as if hit by lightning. Idril's heart was pounding, feeling like she had just fought off an extremely powerful sorcerer. She noticed that Erik was trembling, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. "I should go." He said coldly and retreated into the crowd.

Idril stared after him, her hand touching her lips in shock. Her emotions were comparable to that of a raging storm as she made her way over to a bench to sit down. "Are you ok, my Princess?" Valamir asked, seeing her white face. She looked up, distracted. "What? Oh yes. I'm fine...I just...I just need some air." She explained before bolting towards the garden.  
Once there, Idril sat pensive on her favorite bench, trying to sort out her jumbled emotions. That kiss...it was like an electric shock through her body. It both scared her and invigorated her. Why had she kissed him? Had her cousin seen what had haunted her unconscious for so long? And he had fled from her. 'Of _course_ he ran...look at what he's had to deal with!' Idril's mind reminded her. Now what was she going to do? She didn't want things to become awkward between them.

She began to pace, trying to clear her mind. It wasn't working. With a sigh, she fell onto the grass, trying to calm her thoughts. Looking up at the sky, slowly she started to relax and her mind cleared. Common sense took over, and Idril resolved to talk to Erik when he was ready. She dusted herself off and made her way back feeling a little less tempestuous and hoping that things would work itself out.


	22. I Won't Say I'm In Love

**Elvish Terms:**

Eledhwen-Sindarin, "Elf Maiden"

Idrilinya-Quenya, "My Idril"

Ada-Sindarin, "Dad"

Naneth-Sindarin, "Mother"

Nana-Sindarin, "Mom"

Hannon le, Ada-Sindarin, "Thank you, Dad"

Elen nin-Sindarin, "My star"

A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!-Sindarin, "Ah Elbereth Gilthoniel"

Noro lim, mellon nin-Sindarin, "Ride fast, my friend"

Note: My elvish translations may not be one hundred percent accurate. 

Pairings: E/C, R/C, E/OW, OC/OC, Van Helsing/OC. Hints of AU.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my original characters. PoTO belongs to Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, and Andrew Lloyd Webber. LoTR belongs to JRR Tolkien, Peter Jackson, New Line Cinema, etc. Van Helsing belongs to Stephen Sommers.

Summary: _When the daughter of monster hunter Gabriel Van Helsing and the Lady of the Dúnedain goes undercover with her company to capture the infamous Opera Ghost, nothing goes as planned. What will happen when three childhood friends reunite and secrets uncovered? Also, what will Erik do when he comes face to face with a child of Lúthien's line?_

I Won't Say I'm In Love

"No chance, no way, I won't say I'm in love"-Disney's Hercules

'_Why?_' was the endless refrain that chanted in Erik's mind. He had kissed Idril. Or she had kissed him-it didn't really matter. Was he drawn to her only because of some invisible taint in his blood? Or was it possible that he actually held feelings for her? Erik's mind raced as he sank down into the chair in his room. Obviously, Erik had, over the months, come to trust the Dúnedain Princess and she was one of the few people he felt comfortable with. "Bloody hell." He swore. He was starting to develop feelings for Idril. "How did this happen?" Erik growled to nothing in particular. How was it possible to fall out of love with Christine, his Angel?

Erik thought back to how he had finally began to trust Idril. She accepted him for who he was, and was willing to fight for his innocence to her people. he buried his face in his hands. This was utterly ridiculous. How had the _Eledhwen_ gotten under his skin so unnoticed? The Phantom had fallen for an elf-maid, rather then the angel. '_How am I going to face her tonight?_' he thought. It was bad enough that he wasn't sure how he felt about this sudden upheaval. It was too much, too soon. He needed time to think things through rationally. Erik wasn't about to go and make a fool of himself. With a sigh, he got up and started to pace.

'T_his is ridiculous. I'm acting worse then that miserable fop did around Christine_.'Erik snarled mentally. He then noticed Valamir motioning for him and realized that it was time to go. 'Here's where the fun begins.' The older man thought sarcastically. Erik was not looking forward to the awkward dinner that seemed sure to follow.

He was not proven wrong. Erik and Idril could barely make eye contact without blushing and quickly looking away. Alatáriel and Gabriel looked at each other with raised eyebrows, but said nothing. "_Ada_? May I speak with you?" Idril asked quietly as Erik retreated to the guest house. "Of course, _Idrilinya_." Gabriel replied. "How do bonds usually start?" she asked.

Van Helsing started. "This is about Erik, isn't it?" It was not a question. His daughter nodded. "Sometimes bonds are fated, in a way. The Fellowship of the Ring is a good example of that. In other cases, it's because the _Valar_ feel that a person has something about them that we could learn from. It is where the romantic idealization of 'soulmates' came from." He explained.

Idril's eyes veiled over as she grew deep in thought. "_Ada_...can you think of a reason why Erik and I would be sharing each other's dreams before we even met? I don't know what to tell him-I am no _Maia_ like you...it doesn't make any sense! Why me?" she sighed, her shoulders sagging.

Gabriel hugged his only daughter and lifted her head up so that her eyes met his own. "I do not know all, my elven princess. However, I have a theory. Perhaps your souls operate on the same level, and that is why you two have shared dreams before you had even met. On the other hand, perhaps it was coincidence, much like Sam Gamgee overhearing the conversation between Frodo and Gandalf. I cannot say for certain, _Idrilinya_. But do not be discouraged, for you have strength of heart and body, and would be a worthy choice of the _Valar_." He told her gently.

She gave a small smile. "_Hannon le, Ada_."Idril said quietly. "Cheer up, _elen nin_. All will be well-we have a good chance with the Vatican. Fear not." Gabriel reassured her. Idril smiled again and hugged her father. She felt slightly more relaxed, bolstered by her father's sincere belief in her.

Idril wanted to speak to Erik, but felt that it wouldn't be wise to push him when he was in such an agitated state. "_Naneth_? Will you go for a ride with me?" she asked, poking her head into Alatáriel's study. "It is growing late, so let us keep it short." Alatáriel replied as they grabbed their cloaks and headed for the stable. Shadowfax and Alatáriel's horse, Alcarë gave happy snorts when they saw their riders.

In a few minutes, the horses were saddled and bridled. Mother and daughter were met by a blast of cool night air as the stars shone brightly above them. _"A! Elbereth Gilthoniel!_" Alatáriel whispered reverently to the night sky. "Race you!" Idril called mischievously then petted Shadowfax affectionately. "_Noro lim, mellon nin_!" she whispered as the white horse responded by going into a gallop. However, he was no match for Alcarë and her rider, who quickly caught up with them.

"You are fast, but not fast enough." Idril's mother teased. Her daughter gave an elf-like grin. "Almost though, nana, almost!" she teased back. Then Idril's expression turned quiet as she looked towards her mother. "Nana? When did you realize that you loved Ada?" she asked, looking younger then her actual age when the moonlight struck her.

Alatáriel froze. '_Ah, Star-Queen! Why must you try me in this way? She is so much like Angharad...however, I must believe that Fate will be kinder to my daughter then it was for the Half-Elf of Avalon..._' She thought. Taking time to relax and think out her answer, the Lady of the Rangers looked up at the night sky. "It was the night after we had won our first battle against the sorcerers who resurrected Dracula and the soul of the Witch-King of Angmar. I was dancing around the bonfire with the other Edain women, and I saw him watching me closely. His eyes...they had been dark, cold, and full of grief for a long time. But then, they were light and clear. The grief had left him, and he watched me like a hawk. When I stared back, I could see the man he was, underneath all the leather. It didn't matter that he was nameless, or worked for the Vatican. All that mattered was the good in him." Alatáriel explained, letting her mind take her back through the years.

She closed her eyes. "It was a hard time, my Idril. Gabriel found out he was a Maia shortly afterwards, and it scared him. He had these powers surfacing, powers and memories that frightened him. Your father was afraid of loosing control and killing me in a similar manner to that of Anna Valerious." Alatáriel opened her eyes and looked at her daughter.  
"I would not give in so easily. We kept our distance, but it was agonizingly hard. It was only after my dear friend Angharad had falle-errr.. gotten hurt that we realized it was foolish to stay away. Believe me, it wasn't easy, what with being attacked from every which way. But somehow we made it." The Lady of the Rangers stared off in the distance, eyes dark.

Idril gave an appreciative nod. "You have feelings for Erik." It was not a question. Alatáriel watched her daughter squirm, uncomfortable. "I suppose. I...I am so confused! I am drawn to him, for all of the good qualities he posses. I've been having dreams about him before we even met and it frightens me, _Naneth_! It frightens me because we do have a bond, but what if it means we had no choice in the matter? I don't even know how to talk to him now-I have never had the experience. _Nana_, I feel so confused." Idril said, hanging her head.

The Lady hugged her daughter. "Oh sweetie, I know. You grew up too fast and had to act older then you actually are. It's so easy to forget that you're so young." Alatáriel soothed. "It's a complicated matter, Idril. The only thing I can tell you is to give yourself some distance and truly search your feelings. Then, when things have died down, go talk to him." The Lady advised. Idril sighed. "It's all so complicated and confusing. Also, what if the Pope feels that my feelings interfered with my mission?" she asked, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Alatáriel let out a long breath. "Things have a way of working out. All we can do is do the best we can with he time that is given to us. You have the strength to pull through. Come, let us go back home. It will do you no good to ruminate on matters of the heart." She advised.

Mother and daughter wheeled about to go home, two flying things that shone in the moonlight. Idril felt her spirits lift slightly as she resolved to talk to Erik as soon as they both felt comfortable looking at each other. Watching her heir, Alatáriel sent a silent whisper to the ghost of her departed friend to watch over her daughter and Erik.


End file.
